Always is not Forever
by TheDevilandhisQueen
Summary: AU starting at Roman Holiday. Harold has abandoned Blair during the holidays, and a certain hotel heir's trip to Monaco gets cut short when he realizes his heart just isn't with him. Rated M for mature audiences. Smut, language, and angst lie ahead.
1. Importance

**AN: Us again! This story is a little different from what we've been doing. We're throwing it back a little and reworking a portion of season 1. B and I (C here, hi!) got a bug awhile ago to go vintage, and we're sorry we're not immune to some of the same plot-thoughts that have caught a lot of CB writers' attention during the course of the show. This story is AU starting from 1x11 _Roman Holiday_, but it definitely toys with the "what if" ideas that 1x13 circulates. We try to be somewhat original about it, though, and even if it's not, hopefully it's brief enough that it doesn't seem to drawn out and repetitive. **

**We're rating this story M, because do we do it any other way? Read at your own risk, although this chapter is fairly tame. Now, let's party like it's almost 2008...**

* * *

One thing was becoming increasingly clear to everyone at the penthouse on 1136 Fifth Ave.—Blair Waldorf was mad.

It had become evident over the years, that when Blair didn't get what she wanted, she made it known to practically all of Manhattan. Though she had grown out of her temper tantrums (she was the mature age of seventeen, after all), she still had her ways of protesting what her mother, Dorota, or father tried to place on her without her consent or approval. An example of that, in fact, would be that her father hadn't come to New York to spend Christmas with his daughter.

She'd been furious when he didn't show up for Thanksgiving (thanks to her mother's handiwork), and that was when he believed Blair didn't want her there. Now, when she was dying to see her daddy…he wouldn't even come? For the sake of his _boyfriend_?! She couldn't even express her rage, especially since her perfectly concocted plan to convince him to move back to New York would have to wait, or even be terminated.

On top of all of that, there was Chuck Bass. The basshole who had taken her virginity, then had the audacity to…_like_ her, and…he was _Chuck Bass_.

"Dorota!" Blair shouted from her bed, her laptop sitting in front of her as she wallowed in pity, and bottomless boxes of macarons.

The maid was at her door in moments, eyes wide, "Yes Miss Blair?"

Blair didn't even bother looking up to regard the maid, and instead stated, "Bring me more macarons. _Chocolate_."

Dorota slightly hesitated, and slowly spoke, "Miss Blair, don't you think you've had enough—"

Blair rolled her eyes, "_More macarons_!" was all she stated before reaching across her bed to grasp her phone, which had been going off over and over, nonstop, while Serena and Nate texted and called her, voicing their worry. Of course the _motherchucker_ didn't even bother to call or text her.

Every year, after opening all of her presents on Christmas, Blair liked to call them and tell them everything she'd received. This year, however, was different. She'd awoken with a grin on her face, thinking that maybe…_just maybe_…her father's wishes had been a scheme. That he'd be there Christmas morning to surprise her and all would be well. She'd even bought the large candy canes for him, and dressed in her favorite red and white polka-dotted night gown.

When he didn't show up, Blair immediately rushed to her room, and declared that she would speak to no one for the rest of the day (aside from the occasional order for Dorota). Eleanor had immediately rolled her eyes at the proclamation, and announced she'd be spending the holiday in her bedroom as well, until Blair decided to stop acting so childish, and join the grown-ups for the holiday. Blair also told Dorota that if Serena came by to visit her, that she wasn't there, and wouldn't take no for an answer. As she scrolled through the missed calls and text messages, her eyes landed on one from Chuck, that he'd sent her two days ago. In it, was a picture of Nate and himself, all alone together in some foreign place.

_Together_.

The thought of Chuck telling Nate what she'd done…the thought of the way Nate would look at her from now on…it made her sick to her stomach, so much so that…Blair immediately jumped up from the bed, and went into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door behind her, before getting down on her knees, and performing a well-rehearsed ritual. Within moments, she was emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl…all four boxes of macarons now having done their job. She haphazardly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, flushed the toilet, shifted to lean back against the wall.

Christmas be damned.

* * *

The trip down Fifth Avenue was tediously slow and did nothing to help the nerves that were tightly wound within one Chuck Bass.

Outside, fat fluffy flakes of snow danced their way to the ground to join the slush that was thickly lining the streets of New York City. It had been an unexpected storm, and as a result the Mayor had yet to order the proper cleanup for the city, and the limo moved slower than usual after turning off Madison Avenue and onto Fifth. Every one on the entire Upper East Side must have been on the road, going to whatever Christmas dinner or party they'd managed to finagle their way into at the last minute so as not to appear sad, lonely, and pathetic on this night. Then again, was he really any better? The edge of the ribbon that was tied tightly around the box that was perched on his lap was frayed, evidence of his worrying fingers.

What _he _was nervous about he'd never know - after all, it wasn't like he was the one who should technically be apologizing! The sharp curve of his jaw tightened and he swallowed hard against the memory that burned into his retina. Blair and her lips, lips that he'd had both the pleasure and the misery of tasting on his own, attached to Nate. For about a fraction of a second, Chuck had dared to believe that what she was seeing wasn't happening, or at least wouldn't lead to what he feared. But the cock of Nate's eyebrow, the brotherly grin that he'd given Chuck over the top of Blair's sleek brunette head, it had been impossible to misconstrue. Whereas Chuck had previously been the only person to ever enter past Blair's defenses, Nate was about to join him in that claim, and the thought was enough to make him….

So, he thought, pulling himself from that unpleasant line of memory, it was Blair's fault. They'd had plans, an understanding between them. Then she'd just lashed out for _no_ reason at all and had acted in a way that was thoroughly inappropriate and just downright hurtful. Well, hurtful if he cared, he thought, tugging at his short brown locks that covered his head. He didn't care, because he was Chuck Bass, and even though she was Blair Waldorf… even she wasn't worth caring about. Not anymore than he had to, as a friend anyway. Were they even friends after all of this? That was part of what he aimed to find out tonight.

Word of Blair's seclusion had reached his ears since he came back to New York, and he was curious to see what it was all about for himself. _Not_ because he cared, he insisted aggressively. Just… because Blair Waldorf hadn't been known to sit inside during a holiday or party season since she was old enough to decide when and where she went out by herself. "Arthur," he snapped as he lowered the partition, "I won't pay you extra for every minute you delay." If his driver was annoyed, he didn't show it - he'd been putting up with Chuck's snaps and retorts for years now.

"Yes, Mr. Bass. We're here."

Sure enough, they had just pulled up outside of the penthouse. Sulking, Chuck didn't even bother to offer an apology to Arthur before he was sliding over the leather seats (seats that had seen so much), gift in hand, and opening the door to step out onto the sidewalk without waiting for his driver to get the door. He pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck as he strode up the walkway towards the door, nodding to the doorman as the glass door swung back to let him in.

The ride in the elevator to her penthouse was nearly as excruciating as the drive to the building in the first place, but he arrived much quicker than the latter. There was an eerie quiet to the penthouse as he stepped off the elevator and looked around. A faint glow in the living room told him that the tree was lit, but the lack of sound told him that there was no chipper Blair fawning over her expensive presents like he'd come to expect with every holiday season.

"Mr. Chuck,_"_Dorota's accented voice greeted him as she emerged from wherever it was that she'd been - she always seemed to appear out of thin air, "Miss. Blair is taking no visitors. You should go home. It is Christmas." Chuck's hazel eyes hardened slightly at the words. Christmas had never been much in the Bass home, and the one year where his father was staying home, Chuck was shoved aside so that he might propose to Lily Van deer Woodsen of all people. It wasn't that he minded the blonde, it was just that he'd rather not have his first Christmas with his father within his memory be filled with memories where they weren't even interacting.

"She'll want to see me." That was all he told Dorota before he was climbing the stairs lazily, like he had all the time in the world. The maid fumed after him, but did nothing, and Chuck belatedly wondered if perhaps she _wanted_ her mistress to be barged in on. He crept quietly to Blair's door and knocked once before twisting the handle, stepping inside, and finding…. Nothing.

A frown crossed his lips and he walked farther into her room, surveying the scene before him. Signs told him that she had evidently been here recently, but she was nowhere to be found. Curiously, he walked over to her bed and picked up the lid of one of the boxes that was scattered over the comforter.

Pierre Herme.

It was then that he heard a horrible sound - a cough, a retch, then silence followed by the powerful sound of a toilet being flushed.

"Blair?" he called out, a thread of dread winding through his mind as he walked towards her bathroom door. He didn't even knock as he turned the handle and swung the door open, his eyes landing on the girl in front of him.

Blair hadn't even heard him say her name. She didn't think that anyone would be visiting her, trusting her maid's skills at keeping unwanted visitors away. And Chuck Bass definitely fell under the category of unwanted visitors. When he entered the bathroom, she panicked, but kept her cool, at least outwardly. Her eyes flickered up to him, a look of anger crossing her features.

"Go away, Chuck," she said immediately, standing in hopes she could slam the door before he made his way all the way through it. However, he somehow managed, and…he'd heard her. How had he…it didn't matter, she argued, because this was Blair Waldorf's life, and according to her, this never even happened.

"Waldorf… did…" This wasn't his area of expertise, this should be Serena's job, she was a chick and would know how to handle these inquiries. "Did you just… did you do what I think you did?" Concern laced his voice.

Not because he cared, though.

"No!" she immediately retorted at his "absurd" speculation. "I have the stomach flu, why do you think I'm not enjoying Christmas with my mother?" She practically spat the words, her voice dripping with venom, "Now, if you don't want to catch it yourself I suggest you _leave_, Bass," her eyes were lowered to nothing but slits as she glared at him, ignoring the package in his hand with all her might. There was nothing Blair Waldorf loved more than gifts (especially those that came from Chuck Bass), but she no longer had the Christmas spirit.

_Me thinks the lady doth protest too much_, Chuck quoted to himself drily while he stared at Blair, not letting her shrill, snappy retorts get the better of him. He'd known her since they were both children, he'd grown used to her temper tantrums, and their short affair between the sheets had only made him better acquainted with her dislike at not getting what she wanted _when_ she wanted it. He might come away with a few scratches and bite marks, but in the end Chuck knew he was more than capable of standing toe to toe with her and at least making her put up a fight even if he didn't win his.

"Funny," he said airily, eyes burning into hers, "typically one has to go _outside_ and have contact with others in order to contract an illness. From what I hear, you've made quite the social recluse of yourself and you might as well be a modern day Rapunzel. And since when have you ever enjoyed _any_ holiday with your mother? You know as well as I do that it's your father you prefer to spend them with." He only wished he could say the same. At this rate, he'd prefer spending his Christmas with his mother, which was saying something seeing as she was six feet under and he had no idea what cemetery to even look for her in. Anything would be better than having to watch Bart play the doting, hopeful stepfather to Eric and Serena, though. Not that it wouldn't be fun torturing the normally bubbly blonde, but watching his father shower more attention on them than his own son by blood was… cruel.

If Blair Waldorf could wish torture and death upon anyone at that moment, it would be Chuck Bass.

Not only was he ruining her already terrible Christmas, but he was _right_, and she _hated_ being wrong, almost more than _anything. _It was unfair that he just got to barge in whenever he wanted, it was unfair that he wouldn't just accept what she was saying, and move on. Her mind thought up quick retorts to all of his accusations, her mind rationalizing what she was saying as if it were nothing but the truth.

"I haven't been outside because of the stomach flu, _obviously_!" she turned her lips up into a disapproving frown then (largely induced by his horrid reminder that her father wasn't around), and gave him a good hard glance from top to bottom.

"_Please_ do not tell me you cut your trip short on my account. I know you have a crush on me, but we're nothing more than _friends_, Chuck, and that's _not going to change_!" She knew the words were probably cutting, but she just wanted him out. She wanted him to stop being so suspicious, wanted him to just _not care_ about her! She had a weird feeling, deep down, that told her otherwise, that told her that they'd taken one step away from friendship, and there was no hope in going back.

Chuck's hands curled slowly into tight fists. If she weren't a girl… if she wouldn't have his ass in jail and leave him with a very unamused Bart Bass having to bail him out for laying a hand on Blair Waldorf… if he wasn't the type that perpetually paid someone else to do his dirty work for him, _he would throttle her!_

The nasty words she all but trilled at him cut him to the core, and flooded him with hot embarrassment and shame. The one time in his life that he'd had the nerve to feel _butterflies_ - the one time he'd _shared_ them with the girl - and look what happened. She used them to throw them in his face, make him wish he'd stuck to what he knew best and stayed glued to the alcohol and random women that didn't care if he felt anything or not.

"Don't delude yourself into thinking you're that important, Blair. If your father wouldn't come home for Thanksgiving, there's no way in Hell _I'd_ come home for _you_. You see, I only trouble myself with the important people, and I'm afraid my usual girl has missed me," he sneered the words, the last bit a lie but a well-done one if he did say so himself. It was an eye for an eye, and the remark about her father was low, but she'd started it the second she brought his feelings, or any remnants of, into this argument. After that, he saw red, and all he wanted to do was… was to make her sting as much as he did. Throwing in the remark about her being less than his formerly favorite call girl was just the cherry on top of this disastrous sundae.

Blair felt like she'd just been punched in stomach by his words, a small gasp leaving her lips. How…how dare he tell her she's less important than…a call girl. How dare he tell her that he didn't care! (She'd told herself she didn't want him to care, but obviously that wasn't the case). He obviously did, otherwise he wouldn't be standing before her, he wouldn't be pressing and pulling her until he got out a confession as to what she'd really been doing in the bathroom. What she'd been telling herself had been the stomach flu for days; it had to be the only rational explanation.

"I'm really _that_ unimportant to you?!" she hissed, "So I guess you just buy all of the girls you bed diamond necklaces…how dare I think that Chuck Bass ever be…_kind_?!"

No, she wasn't that unimportant to him. Despite everything between them, they were still… friends, weren't they? She was important to him, more so than any of his call girls (maybe too much so, a nasty little voice chimed in), but he wasn't about to actually tell her that. Least of all not directly after he'd said the cruel remark in the first place. Not when it might help goad her into telling him what was really going on. He'd known what he had heard, and he knew what he saw. He'd heard the same sounds only once before, just before Blair's secret had been uncovered and she'd been sent to inpatient.

There were very few things that could make Chuck Bass uneasy, but hearing Blair Waldorf purposefully make herself sick was one of them. So, when he heard it now, he knew exactly what it was, but he still… there was a smidgen of hope that he was wrong. That she was exiling herself to an early bedtime and she was just brushing her teeth or performing some other mundane task like that, anything but… _that_.

Even though he knew that wasn't the case, it still irked him when she admitted to it, when she stopped lying to him and told him that he was right and she was doing… _that_… to herself. Somehow, he still couldn't connect the words 'purge' and 'Blair' - the only thing Blair Waldorf purged was last seasons fashions or unruly minions that thought they were better than everyone else. Joining her with such an ugly, self-loathing act, it just didn't…. There wasn't a way for him to wrap his mind around it.

Blair felt incredibly trapped with him in the tiny room, and immediately resolved that she needed to get out as soon as possible, and with that notion, she pushed past him and sauntered into her bedroom.

Chuck turned and followed her back into her bedroom, not quite ready to let the subject change like she was.

Blair quickly kicked the evidence of her macaron massacre subtly under her bed, before grabbing her phone, which went off yet again. With that, she was reminded of the entire reason that Chuck had been gone in the first place, and her initial upset at seeing him increased tenfold.

"When did you and Nate get back from your trip?" she asked, her voice dangerous, Chuck knew by now that one wrong move with Blair meant total social destruction, but he wouldn't back down as easy as most, which was something that Blair had come to find out, even in their very short amount of time together. "I trust you had a good time. And judging by the fact that you're in one piece, you didn't tell him." She was offering him a chance with her words. Offering him a chance to lie to her, to tell her that he didn't do what she'd assumed he had done. She'd hoped he was just teasing with the pictures, but with someone as dangerous as Chuck Bass...you always had to be careful.

At first Chuck wasn't quite sure what she was referring to, but then he remembered.

In a spiteful rage, just after Nate had finished giving vague details of his night with Blair with the sappiest, goofiest, grin on his face (a grin that Chuck wanted to smear off his face and throw onto the rug if it were at all possible), he'd suggested a photo with him and his best friend to commemorate their time living as bachelors before Nate returned to New York to become a committed man.

That photo, of course, had been promptly sent to Blair to act as a silent threat. It nearly hadn't been a threat - Chuck had come very close, too close, to spilling everything. When Nate made reference to how good Blair had felt, Chuck had nearly opened his mouth and said _I know_. Because he did know, he knew exactly how good her tight, virginal depths felt around a swollen length, and he'd known before Nate, damn it!

But he also knew exactly what Blair was saying - if he told Nate, that was it. Their friendship would crumble, because even though he and Blair had been broken up and Nate had actually _cheated_ on Blair, he wouldn't see it that way. He'd see it as the very deepest betrayal of trust and Chuck would lose the closest friend, the closest thing to a brother, he'd ever had.

Before he could get a chance to respond, Dorota was in the doorway, interrupting their conversation, "Miss Blair, your macarons here." She presented the box, and received one of the coldest looks from Blair, one that said she'd screwed up, bad.

"_Dorota_," she hissed, "Not now."

Blair swallowed thickly, and looked between Dorota and Chuck, before marching across the room and holding the door open for him, "You've extended your un-welcome as much as it is, now please leave before I ask you to be escorted out!" she shouted, eyes flicking to Dorota and snapping at her as well, "You're _dismissed_ Dorota!" the maid quickly stepped away, descending the stairs.

Chuck rounded on Blair then. "How many is this?" he asked icily, the coolness to his voice a mask. "Four? Five?" He tossed her present onto the bed and grabbed two of the boxes before toeing out the one she'd tried to kick under the bed. "I've heard of indulgence but I'd say this borders on _overdose_, Waldorf. How _exactly_ are you not bouncing off the walls right now?" His eyes were full of challenge upon the inquiry.

Blair turned around to face Chuck, her skin heating and coming close in color to the red and white polka-dotted dress she wore. "Quit it, Bass!" she barked, "Those were—" she faltered, "Those were from _days_ ago! Dorota hasn't been keeping up the apartment due to the crazy holiday season." She knew her slight sputter and red face contradicted her sharp tone and conviction of her words, she knew that he'd catch on and know she was lying, she'd know that he'd tell Serena and Nate…but she couldn't—no—wouldn't accept that. According to Blair Waldorf, this never happened. According to Blair Waldorf, she'd caught a nasty stomach flu, and that was that.

"Like Hell!" Chuck all but snarled at her, flicking the boxes with surprising force across the room and towards her trashcan, making Blair jump slightly. "You have arms, and with your OCD tendencies you'd never just let boxes of macarons lie around your room for _days_, no matter how busy Dorota is. You'd throw them away yourself before you let any ant so much as sniff the crumbs."

"No!" she shouted back at him, their charade seemingly endless, she wouldn't admit to anything he was saying. "I've been _bedridden_," she tried to argue, "I…I didn't even notice the boxes there!"

He inhaled sharply, chest heaving as he took in her appearance. The red in her cheeks matched the red of her short, red polka dotted nightgown, and there was a certain unsteadiness just under her voice that said everything she was saying was not as it seemed.

"You're a wretched liar, you know that, Waldorf?" he said, "Always have been, always will be."

_A wretched liar…always have been, always will be_. He was referring to her and Nate's relationship, referring to how no matter how many times she'd told him she loved him, here she was, having sex with his best friend. Tears stung her eyes, but she fought them off. How…how could he say such a thing to her? She had to keep reminding herself, he was Chuck Bass. He knew not of…sympathy.

He pointed towards her bathroom door then. "I _know_ what I heard, Blair," he said firmly, concern leaking into his voice despite his best efforts, and perhaps ruining the confrontational tone of it, "I know what I heard, and I know that you don't just eat box after box of macarons _just because_." He kicked the box across the floor to join the other one he'd tossed that way. "Either you tell me willingly or I'll pull your hair until you tell me anyway. I'll go to your mother if I have to," there was a slight strain in his voice for once as he remembered the last time it had happened, "she'll send you in for treatment again, and she'll make you go to therapy." The short stint Blair had done at an inpatient center had been torture on the rest of them. Even after she'd come home and was reduced to simply going to her therapist's office after school, it had cast a dark cloud over them knowing what hours Blair wasn't available, and why. It wasn't a time he cared to remember, but if he had to use it to try to coax an answer out of her, then he would.

Finally Blair exhaled a large breath, and shouted, "FINE!" the thought of her mother knowing what happened…the thought of going back to the hospital and going through therapy…she grimaced, lowering her voice so that no one in the house would hear, "It happened again. I tried to stop it, but…with my dad refusing to come see me for the holidays, and you—" she practically growled at him, her tone icy, "You sending me that picture…" she shook her head, "I just…" she let the sentence linger in the air, for she knew he knew exactly what would come next, had she finished speaking. "_Congratulations_ Chuck, you got it out of me. Happy?" she asked with a nasty expression, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"He's not here?" Chuck asked, disbelief tainting his question, eyebrows rising momentarily in a rare show of genuine surprise. Harold Waldorf loved three things: his daughter, the holidays, and those two things combined. He knew he'd skipped out on Thanksgiving through the grapevine (Blair tried to avoid talking about it directly, but it had been mentioned), so everyone, Blair included, was sure that he would show up for Christmas.

Even Chuck had felt the stirrings of jealousy when he imagined how happy and bubbly Blair's Christmas with her father must be in comparison to his own. For the old Waldorf to actually skip out on both holidays was slightly obscene. Jesus, no wonder she'd taken to hiding herself away and even Gossip Girl was questioning what was going on with her. This information certainly did nothing to quell the guilt that stung him when she mentioned the picture he'd sent in his fit of jealousy and rage. Jealousy over the fact that Nate had her, again, and rage over the fact that although he didn't say much, it was worse than saying too much, since that meant that this time…. This time Nate was in it, and there was no chance in Hell Blair would have second thoughts if Nate was in it once and for all this time.

"_No_," he said, taking a step and lifting his hands to lock around her too slender arms, "no, I'm not happy. Blair, you…" he faltered; for once, Chuck was serious about something, a sight that was rarely seen, "you can't keep doing this to yourself, you _know_ what it does to you!" He exclaimed quietly.

"I know what it does to me, Bass. I went to therapy." She practically spat, annoyed that he'd even question that fact. "Do you know what all that alcohol and drugs do to you?" she retorted quickly, "And yet you still do them. It's not that easy Chuck, I need…" she paused momentarily, gritting her teeth together, "I need…" _to feel important_ "you to not tell anyone. I'll deal with it, okay?" She just needed him off her case.

"Yes," he immediately responded to her sharp question, "I know that they make my orgasms more convulsive than they would be without it, and they give me an excuse when I don't remember what name I'm supposed to be yelling." It was a crude, vulgar response, but it wasn't far from the truth. The alcohol and drugs did give him that excuse, so that when he yelled out _Blair, Blair, fuck, Blair!_ repeatedly, he couldn't be held accountable for his own actions. In the end, he was an ass and an addict and an alcoholic, and the taste of the night left his bed and he would move onto his next victim in the next night. He was disgusted with himself that he had to stoop to this level, but until the… the butterflies or whatever the hell they were were crushed, he would turn a blind eye to this level of patheticness.

Blair barged on with her words, though, and he wanted to shake her because this couldn't be real, she couldn't be real. This Blair Waldorf seemed so… uncertain, on edge, and not in her usual way. He surveyed her intently when she made her request, and he was caught, uncertain of what to do. How could he not tell anyone? How could he break her trust, though…. He neither confirmed nor denied her request; instead, he silently stared her down until she changed the subject.

"I see you brought something?" she asked, raising her brows and regarding the package on the bed.

He turned his head to look at the box that he'd carefully picked out the wrapping paper for. "Yeah," he said the word curtly. The box seemed so innocent now in what was decidedly not an innocent situation.

He turned back to her and met her eyes, noting the gleam in the back of the brown depths.

"I also have something I want to show you…"

Her words made his mouth go dry, and he became acutely aware of the fact that he was still holding onto her arms. His reply was velvety smooth. "If you weren't… _devoted_," he sneered the single word softly, "I'd say that sounded like a proposition."

Blair immediately rolled her eyes and scoffed at his response, "Pig." It was so typical of Chuck Bass to respond to a serious accusation with something so suggestive it had her skin crawling with disgust, yet La Perlas slightly dampening with reminder to just how convulsive her orgasms had been with him…and that was without the aid of any drug or alcohol (because quite frankly, he intoxicated her enough as it was).

Blair pulled away from his grasp and crossed the room to her desk where she'd been keeping her key, the gift her brought her temporarily forgotten, and pulled open a drawer to search for its hiding place.

Chuck allowed his eyes the luxury of traveling over the back of her body without shame. Legs were deceptively long and creamy, and they were accentuated by the way they peeked out from under her red nightgown. There was a soft swaying motion to her hips as she walked, and it left him entranced, lost in memories of times where his hands had fit perfectly to those same hips and held them tight as the two of them-

When her wandering fingers finally closed around the small metal key, she lifted it, with the red ribbon attached, and crossed back to Chuck.

Quick as lightening his eyes rose back to hers when she turned around, nothing in his expression giving away the brief indulgence he'd allowed himself. Just looking, he justified himself. That was all he was doing. It wasn't like he actually wanted to touch her again. Wasn't like he wanted to find out if her hips fit in his hands like they had the first time and every time since that point…. He was Chuck Bass. Leering at girls was what he did. That didn't stop his lips from pursing and his jaw from tightening when she grabbed his hand, heat rippling out over the surface that she touched.

"Who ever said I was _devoted_?" She asked, her voice turning slightly suggestive, before she dropped the key into his hand, and let go, returning both of her arms to her sides. "Not a proposition, but an invitation. Tomorrow night, Kati, Is, and some of the other juniors will be at the pool house, thanks to _yours truly_."

Hazel eyes narrowed in her direction, bitterness riddling the intense stare. She must think he was a fool if she thought he wouldn't deduce that she was going to _devote_ herself to Nate after… after they had…. He looked down at the small weight she'd deposited in his hand, and turned it over for inspection. A key, it seemed. A pool party. It sounded very juvenile, except he knew this would be no ordinary pool party. It never was in their world. Besides, pretty girls in things that could hardly be anything more than underwear? Count him in.

She slightly swayed side to side, that devious smirk she'd adopted from him gracing her features "The party starts at midnight. I trust you'll bring some…party supplies?" Of course, it was a silly question. When did Chuck not provide the party favors? Weed and alcohol were his specialty after all, and it wasn't a party unless the Basshole was there. There was one small problem, however, and that was Nate. After they sealed the deal, so to speak, he thought that they were officially back together, that he'd made clear enough by all the voicemails and text messages.

Chuck didn't have to know that, at least for now.

He let out a soft snort of laughter when she posed her question and he looked up at her, closing the key in his fist. "I'll call my guy tonight," he said, "You can sign for the liquid party favors in my name." His name, because Blair would have his balls if she got caught hosting a party for underage teenagers at a pool house. Trespassing, technically breaking and entering, alcohol, narcotics… none of that would look good on her transcript for Yale, and if there was one thing everyone knew she wanted it was that school.

After all, this was her party, and anyone who didn't go would be considered a social loser. "Now that I've showed you mine…" her voice slightly dipped at the end, "Show me yours," her eyes landed on the gift behind him, her mind wandering the possibilities of what it could be. From her past, brief, experience with Chuck's gift giving…he always did satisfy. Whether it was a diamond necklace, or…something intimate in the back of a moving vehicle.

He looked back over to the box that she was eyeing with a fair deal of interest by this point. The contents was extravagant, too much so. The problem was that he'd never had anyone to buy gifts for, so he didn't know how to do anything but big. The gift was too much given their current situation, and Chuck realized that perhaps… perhaps he'd hoped that somehow it would…. He lopped that thought off before it even had a chance to grow, visions of reunions that would never be cutting him deeply.

"Why don't I," he started as he grabbed it off the bed to hand it to her, "leave you to open it in private?" he said. She shouldn't have the memory tainted by being in his presence when she opened it, lest she associate it with him. "I'll see you tomorrow, Waldorf." He was sloping out of the room in the next minute, chest strangely heavier than when he'd first entered the penthouse.

Blair's face scrunched up in curiosity and disgust when he handed her the gift and walked out of her room.

She turned and watched his retreating form, "Goodnight, Chuck," slipping off her lips as she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

There was a slight feeling of longing coursing through her as he left, but she pushed it aside and instead walked to her bed and sat down on the edge, the package sitting in her lap. Judging by his last comment, she was expecting it to be something crude and unusual: some lingerie or a sex toy. Something that was completely…expected from Chuck. After all, her birthday had been directly after their…first time, and he was being sweet. Now, he was just being cynical, or at least that was what she assumed.

Blair gently plucked the ribbon from the package and admired the wrapping, before tearing away at the paper, her eyes widening at the name on the box.

_ Bvlgari._

It couldn't be…could it? Lifting the lid, she was graced with the sight of the beautiful pearl choker with the beaded clasp, the one she'd been wanting for _months_. As she admired the piece of jewelry, Dorota appeared in the doorway, box of macarons in hand.

Blair looked up from the box at her maid, "You can send those to the doorman," she regarded the macarons, "I don't want them anymore." She could've sworn she saw Dorota crack a smile before disappearing back down the stairs.

Quickly reaching for her phone, Blair typed a message to Chuck: **_Thank U. xoxo –B_.**

The faintest of smiles crossed Chuck's mouth as he stopped on the snowy sidewalk and looked at his phone to see the message Blair had sent. Evidently she'd opened her package and she liked it. The knowledge both incited a strange tug in his chest and a weak fluttering of the butterflies. It made him uncomfortable to want to be making her feel happy (he supposed that was the most appropriate emotion to insert, although it seemed slightly wrong, somehow not enough) while at the same time acknowledging that he wasn't what made her happy. He wasn't the _one_ that made her happy. A stormy look brewed in his eyes as he shut the door to his limo behind him - as much as she liked that choker, she probably would have liked it ten times more if Nathaniel had given it to her.

Mind, Nate wouldn't have stopped thinking about lacrosse long enough to realize that Blair had been fawning over it for months now, to the point where Chuck was ready to throw his money around and get her entire building _gilded_ in pearls if she liked them so damn much, so long as she shut up about it every time the group sauntered past the store on 57th street. This was another thing, Chuck thought to himself as he scrolled through his phone contacts, that made him uncomfortable with Blair. Nate was his best friend, and yet Blair had him thinking the vilest, cruelest thoughts about him. He'd always poked fun at Nathaniel for being a little dazed and confused, but it was fine since Nate was almost always high, and the pair of them were perpetually getting stoned together. Now, though, his best friend was the enemy, and he didn't even _know_he was the enemy, nor would he probably think so if he knew the full story between Chuck, Blair, and that night at Victrola.

"I need to make an order for tomorrow night." Chuck said into his phone. Marijuana, the good kind, acid, and coke for those that really wanted to start the evening with a bang (coke that would probably be used primarily by him) were among the order, and after topping off the call with another one to the only person that would sell crates of liquor to an underage boy billionaire in the city, he found himself arriving downtown at The Palace, the traffic on Fifth relatively eased since he'd arrived at Blair's in the first place, apparently.

"That'll be all for the night." He addressed his driver as the door was opened for him and he strutted through the courtyard into the building. It was only once he was up in his suite - his suite, not the suite that had seemed to become the joint Van der Bass pad - that he got out his phone again and made another call. "Chuck Bass," he said, "I need you to get here as soon as you can. I'll pay you double and give you your cab fare if you make it snappy." He didn't know how to deal with the confusion that Blair left him with. He didn't know how to deal with what she had confessed to him tonight, didn't know how to deal with his growing animosity towards his best friend, didn't know how to feel… anything. He knew how to fuck, though, and get fucked, so that was exactly what he would do. So long as it kept his head occupied and his brain full, he mused to himself while he poured a tumbler of scotch.

Christmas be damned.

* * *

**AN: There you have it! The first chapter. This fic will probably not be as long as _Whenever, Wherever_, but there are a few chapters left to come... that is, if there's interest. Let us know what you're thinking with a review, and we genuinely love to hear your thoughts - the good, and the constructive (and the bad... but only so long as it's constructive and not pesky little trolls that loathe all things CB). Speaking of _Whenever, Wherever_, B and I are, indeed, working on it. We're just ironing out a few kinks and trying to make it the best that it can be because we love that pairing so much. In the meantime, feel free to reread it, or to check out our Limoversary one-shot which features the CB we developed in the fic! And, as always, if you want more news on our fics or to watch B beat up on C... I mean, watch B and C tweet each other via the same account, feel free to follow us! The handle is: DevilandQueen. **


	2. Anxiety

**AN: Another chapter! We're thrilled that there seems to be some interest in exploring an alternate version of vintage CB - season one holds a special place in all of our hearts', and it's so much fun playing around with the characters during this time. We hope that you'll continue to like it and feel invested in reading and reviewing - we adore hearing from you and getting your thoughts. Special thanks to B who has been plugging along like a maniac to edit these chapters - seriously, I wake up and she's telling me "I edited, look it over" almost every day, so give her a nice slow clap of appreciation. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The next morning, Blair awoke with a start.

She was feeling much better than yesterday, and was excited to show off her new piece of jewelry throughout the day, even to her mother (who 'oo'-ed and 'ah'-ed and asked who it was from). She went about doing the usual before a party, going over the invite list, making sure all plans were in place (including one that meant they wouldn't get caught by the security cameras).

She'd stopped by Bergdorf's to pick out a new swimsuit with Serena (whom she'd told that the reason she fell off the map was due to the stomach flu), and had called Kati and Is to invite them over for some pre-party martinis.

Once the clock hit midnight, Blair and her minions unlocked the doors to the pool house, and slipped in, followed by most of the junior class (Serena said she'd be late due to the fact that she had to stop by and see her lame boyfriend, Dan).

"Don't worry, the party favors will be here soon," she stated, before Nate was stepping behind her, and wrapping his arms around her middle.

"Hey Blair," he whispered against her, leaving a kiss next to her ear.

Blair smiled slightly, and stepped out of his arms, "Hey," she responded, before moving back across the pool house to where her friend's were standing. They all immediately began asking about him, and she just brushed it off, before shedding her jacket, to reveal her red and white bikini (even though Christmas was over, she still liked to be festive).

"B, you said everything would be provided!" Penelope hissed, her eyes dead set on Blair, "And…I don't see anything, _anywhere_."

Blair tried to contain her annoyance as she looked at the brunette—there had been a reason she didn't invite her to the pre-party, and that was becoming even more apparent now—"Penelope, didn't anyone ever tell you it was bad to question your authority?"

A moment later, she heard that voice, and swiftly looked over her shoulder to see the Basstard entering, package in hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen if I could have your attention," he called lazily; like it would be a given they'd all just listen to him when he spoke, "the party has arrived."

"Oh look, the party favors have arrived," Blair mused, eyes still on Chuck. Penelope simply looked at Chuck and rolled her eyes, immediately inciting a reaction from Blair, "You're dismissed."

The brunette sulked away, and Blair suddenly tried to act like she was having the time of her life. She began laughing, and wistfully swept her curls over her shoulder, taking a healthy sip from her plastic martini glass (she'd brought her own alcohol for precautionary purposes).

Cheering choruses could be heard amongst the talk and eager hands took the package from him and set about ripping the box full of pills, powder, and leaves open. Keen eyes flickered up and swept through the crowd automatically. His target was found, automatically, before he even had time to second guess his decision to look for her - it helped that her coloring and patterns on her clothes were relatively similar to yesterday. Except with much… much more skin revealed. Chuck swallowed before nodding his head in her direction and then turning his attention away.

"Ladies, there's enough for everyone," he sighed as the contents continued to be doled out, "I'm talking about the favors, as well," he said with a smarmy grin as he unbuttoned his coat and began to strip out of his clothes down to the striped shirt and swim trunks he'd thrown on.

She could hear his name shouted by a few girls, joyful due to his arrival. Blair slightly turned to eye them fawning over him, her lips slightly turning up in annoyance and…jealousy? No, that couldn't be it. Blair turned around and looked at the warm blue water, and at the several boys that were swimming, one of them including Nate.

A mischievous smile grew on her lips before she placed her now empty cup on the edge of the pool and jumped in. A few people 'hoorah'-ed as she did so, Blair being the first girl to have dared to go in the water and risk ruining her hair.

Usually, she'd be the last one in the water, but she was the host, and as all good leaders must do—lead by example. Kati and Is quickly followed her, and soon they were all wading in the water, gossiping and splashing and laughing at each other. She thought she felt something brush past her leg, so she turned, and came face to face with Nate, who immediately wrapped his arms around her and kissed her straight on the lips. At first, she resisted him, but then she remembered…he was supposed to be her boyfriend of many years, wasn't he? And why should Chuck care, he had plenty of girls at his feet…why should she care that Chuck cared?

A little voice in the back of her head told her that she was only now leaning into the kiss to make him jealous, and all she could do was pray it worked. If it didn't, then she'd know for sure that she was…as he stated the night before, no more important than his favorite call-girl. After a few moments, Blair pulled back, and forced a smile.

"Why have you been avoiding me lately?" Nate asked suddenly, that boyish grin taking his features.

She shrugged, "I haven't…I've just been busy." With that, she swam away and climbed out of the pool, her intentions to find more alcohol, and hopefully, her golden-haired best friend.

* * *

From his newly acquired perch atop the lifeguard chair, Chuck was free to peruse the crowd as he pleased.

Glasses protected his wandering eyes (if asked he'd claim the glare of the lights against the splashing water were irritating him) and with the gaggle of girls that clustered around Blair, he had an excuse to watch her. He tried not to, though, because she looked… well, she looked normal.

Happy.

Like any other bitch that was sipping alcohol in a pool _because she damn well could._

She looked like she wasn't the type to be kneeling before a toilet to empty herself of her perceived troubles. He always thought Blair had been a bad liar, but she was flawless in this situation. Maybe it was just him that she buckled under… that thought, however, was fleeting, thrown out the window before he even considered it a real possibility. Blair didn't do anything with _just him_. Not anymore. Averting his eyes, Chuck took a sip from the martini he held in his hand. A slight grimace crossed his face - the clear gin went down too easy compared to the stinging scotch he preferred, and right now he could really use it.

_"_Chuck Bass_."_

A girlish, coquettish voice said his name from somewhere near his elbow, and he glanced down at… at….

Frankly, he had no idea what her name was, nor did he care to know what it was. He didn't need to know that, though, in order to get her assistance.

"Hi," he said, tipping his sunglasses down his nose so he could look her in the eyes. Sex oozed from his voice and was promised in his eyes, a smirk on his mouth. "Do you think you could do me a really. _Really_… tremendous favor?" He questioned, twirling his newly emptied glass.

The sight of two people colliding out of the corner of his eye distracted him for a moment, though, and he turned his head to look towards the crowd that had just dispersed from around two people. Two people that he knew very, very well.

One of whom he'd seen every inch of underneath that swimsuit, and he wasn't talking about the muscled one with water-slicked hair.

Chuck inhaled sharply through his nostrils and he blinked slowly as he watched the scene unfold before him. He felt like someone had just punched him - there was hope for a second when he thought he saw resistance from Blair, but then she was…. Nausea swept over him and his lips curled into a sneer of disgust, mangling the smirk that had rested there moments ago.

He'd never wanted to know what had happened once those doors closed the night of Cotillion, but this was much too close for his liking. Hardly any clothes were between them and she looked like she was enjoying herself immensely. He wanted to say that it wasn't nearly as much as she'd enjoyed herself with him, but given that he'd been otherwise occupied while he was taking care of her to give her that enjoyment, he couldn't be positive, and it bothered the hell out of him.

As she swam away from Nate and climbed out of the pool, Chuck hopped off the lifeguard chair.

"Wait!" That girlish voice said. "You wanted me to do something?_"_

Chuck looked at her.

"I need a drink."

That was his flat reply before he was stalking away, weaving his way through the people that were mingling poolside until he got to Blair.

"Quite a party," he commented in a normal tone, "I'd say it's turning out to be a smashing success. I'd toast to you but…." He waved his empty glass in front of her face by way of an apology that was as translucent as it was insincere. "Nate seems to be enjoying himself, too," he commented coolly, "He looks like he's having fun with you, too." He took another step closer, drawn up to his full height while lowering his head slightly to her. "I would appreciate it if that didn't happen anymore. If it does, I might have to explain to dear Nathaniel why." The threat was thinly veiled, but it was there, and his eyes were burning with promise.

Blair instinctually stepped back when he practically loomed over her, his threat hanging in the air. Blair frowned, and nudged him away with a swat to his chest, "I can't avoid Nate forever, Chuck!" she hissed, eyes quickly scanning the premises to make sure he wasn't nearby, and that nobody was watching. "He's going to get suspicious." She stated the words plainly, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I didn't say _forever_," he corrected her instantly, as if the idea was so outrageous, "Just until the sight of you two together doesn't… turn my stomach." The words were stale in his mouth and he loathed saying them. Because saying them was admitting that seeing Blair with Nate bothered him, and it would only bother him if he cared to some degree. "That means don't throw yourself over him like a toga if you can help it," he said, making a pointed reference to the kiss he'd witnessed moments ago. She'd been so close to him, and it was easy to imagine that was how close they'd gotten all those nights ago. He was jealous, ragingly jealous, and he found himself making the maddening wish for things to be different so that it could be _him_treading water with Blair and kissing her while they swam. Following droplets of water down her body with his mouth - though his eyes were following one in reality - and causing an outrageous scene. It was that scene, he thought as his eyes lifted from the spot where the rolling water had gone, that was precisely why it would never happen.

When dear Nathaniel caused a scene it was hot, but when he did it, it was proof that he couldn't be what she needed him to be.

Warped logic if he'd ever seen it.

"I need a drink," she stated plainly, and began to walk away towards Nate, who just left the pool to greet Serena, only to be pushed off balance (an easy task due to her level of intoxication). She immediately gasped, and tried to grab the nearest thing to her to stay put and not tumble back into the pool.

One second he was upright, standing poolside, and the next there was a warm, wet hand that sent shocks through his system latching onto him. Then he was falling, falling, falling, straight towards the water with another body beneath his. His glass was lost somewhere along the way and two hands held tight to her waist as they plunged beneath the surface and all of his senses were lost for a moment.

He'd always loathed swimming - he could do it, he just hated the initial shock of diving into the water and not knowing which way was up or down. He soon bobbed to the surface, however, and shook his hair back off his forehead, glaring eyes meeting Blair.

Blair noticed a few people laughing and pointing, and though she was initially mortified, she actually _laughed, _and brushed it off_ (_mostly because she assumed Chuck wouldn't be too happy about getting wet, he seemed to like to stay above all the action, admiring the pretty girls in skimpy outfits).

Blair regarded him with a melodramatic pout, her give-a-shit attitude an attempt to piss him off, "Aww, _Chuck_!" she slowly spoke, "You got your whistle all wet!"

She'd done that on _purpose_, even if someone else had pushed her. His teeth set at her words before he forced a smirk.

"Maybe you should _blow_ it for me to see if it still works," he said smartly.

There were a few snickers from those who'd heard the remark and he allowed himself the luxury of lowering one of his hands for a quick feel over the curve of her swimsuit-clad bottom - quick enough that no one could see, but not quick enough that it didn't cause him a bit of torture to remember what that felt like, smooth and bare beneath his palm.

"Unless," he said, turning in the water and letting go of her completely, finally, "one of you ladies would like to give it a try?" He kicked his legs lazily, a smarmy expression on his face.

Of course, Blair should have known, that Chuck would know just how to push her buttons, far better than when she tried to push his.

The fact of the matter was, she'd found out just how to piss him off, but if she tried to…he'd tell Nate what happened and everything would go up in flames. After all, Blair had her entire life already planned out, and Chuck Bass being by her side wasn't part of it. Nate was her prince, and it needed to stay that way. Even if she wanted Chuck, and if he wanted her—they'd never be able to be together.

He clearly wasn't over her, and she clearly wasn't unimportant to him.

And no matter how attracted she may be to him, and no matter how the faintest of touches could have her wet (in this case, more ways than one), they'd just never work out. She scrunched up her face in fake disgust when he spoke, and that look of disgust turned to outrage in annoyance when he blatantly turned away from her to work his magic on some of the other girls. Blair splashed him from behind, before promptly swimming away to seek out Nate and Serena.

Once out of the pool, it didn't take her long to find them, and…

"Ew, what is _he_ doing _here_? I checked and double-checked the guest list, and vermin from Brooklyn weren't included." As Blair spoke, her eyes were set evenly on Serena (she liked to disregard Dan even being around).

Embarrassed, the blonde looked away, before heaving a sigh, while Nate decided to make his presence known by wrapping a protective arm around Blair. She didn't greet him, however, and kept her eyes on Serena, struggling with whether to take Chuck's threat seriously and walk away from Nate, or piss him off even more by _not_ avoiding Nate (therefore getting him back for pushing her buttons so damn much).

She decided to do the lesser of the two evils, and find a way to get Nate away from her, "Nate, sweetie, would you mind getting me a drink?" she batted her eyelashes at him and gave him her best puppy-dog look (not that it was needed when dealing with Nate).

He gave her that trademark smile, before quickly kissing her on the cheek, "Sure, be right back." After he left, she looked over her shoulder to spot Chuck, mostly because she wanted to make sure he was still in her line of sight and hadn't yet decided to sneak off with some slutty girl. Her attention, however, was quickly drawn away when she heard a splash in the water, and a few people scream. Turning around fully, she saw one of her peers floating in the water, a halo of crimson surrounding his head.

Blair stood there, frozen, rooted to the spot, and the next events seemed to happen in slow motion. Serena screamed and told someone to call an ambulance, Nate dove into the water to pull him to the edge of the pool, and everyone began scattering. It took Blair a few seconds to really realize the seriousness of the situation, before she was searching for her things. She searched for her jacket, boots, and purse, while also trying to calm everyone down.

"It will be fine, everyone! Just find your stuff and go home—he'll be fine!" Blair was distraught, should she stay with him until the paramedics arrived? After all, this party was of her doing (not that many had even known that—she'd told Serena and her minions who spread the word anonymously, and Chuck).

A few moments later, she felt Nate tugging on her arm, "C'mon Blair, we've gotta go."

With Nate on the move, Chuck swam towards the side and got out of the pool while the others started to cluster around the boy. On his way to join them, Chuck stopped, a glint of gold catching his eye. He carefully reached out and plucked the beribboned key from the table and wrapped it firmly in his fist. It anyone traced this back to Blair….

He stuffed it in the pocket of his swim suit before grabbing the clothes he'd shed before and joining the others on their way out.

Blair shivered as soon as she exited the pool house.

Even though she was dressed in the clothes she'd arrived in, her wet hair chilled her to the bone, and the snow on the ground seemed to make the surroundings just that much worse. It helped slightly that Nate had an arm around her, trying to keep her warm as they walked towards the street—it was just then that something had occurred to her. It wasn't until after they'd broken up that he wanted to be with her…wasn't until after they had sex that he really tended to her every need and opened up. However, it wasn't like she was holding back from him, in fact, she'd thrown herself at him on numerous occasions. If it hadn't been for Chuck, she was thoroughly convinced she'd still be head over heels for Nate, but there was something about…

"Why are you hailing a cab?" Blair asked suddenly, snapped out of her reverie, "Can't you call your driver?" she hated public transportation, he knew that, and especially not when she was wet and going through such a traumatic experience.

Nate slightly laughed, "Yeah, but I'm not gonna call him at this hour. Unlike _Chuck_, I don't have him on call twenty-four seven, Blair."

She nodded slowly, disappointment showing on her features.

Right, unlike Chuck.

She'd almost forgotten.

The ride home was awkward, and neither of them spoke much. Blair simply stared out the window and wondered what was going to happen. Nate didn't know she was the one who started the party, and she had a feeling that if she told him, he'd be…disappointed. Because she was his bitchy, snobby, queen-of-the-school girlfriend, and even though he dealt with it, he didn't find it endearing, he didn't like it like she did.

He didn't like it like Chuck did.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she stated plainly when the cab pulled up to her apartment building on Fifth Avenue. Without saying anything else, she exited the cab and rushed inside and to the penthouse elevator before he could stop her and talk to her.

She just…she just needed to be alone.

* * *

It was in the harsh sunlight of the early morning (not really that harsh, just harsh to the headache that was residing behind his eyeballs) that Chuck turned the golden key over and over in his palm, the tiny thing glinting.

So much trouble had been caused, all because of this.

He and the rest of his classmates, to his knowledge, were clueless as to how their peer was doing after his accident last night, and Chuck didn't really want to know.

So long as no one said anything about it, they could pretend it never happened. Don't get him wrong, he didn't want the dude to _die_, but he just wanted that night to disappear out of his memory bank.

Flashes of Blair mauling Nate (the descriptive word escalated each time he thought about it) zipped through his mind and he closed his fist tightly around the thing until the grooves of the metal cut into his skin. His phone started buzzing angrily next to him and with a sigh he reached for it, glancing at the caller I.D. before he answered. 'BART' was plastered across the LED screen, and he had to refrain himself from letting it go to voicemail.

If his father was actually bothering to call him while he stayed at his suite and he was jetting off to wherever it was he and Lily had gone, then it probably wasn't with good news and it was better to get the ire over with sooner rather than later.

"Good morning, father," Chuck said into the phone, trying not to sound like he was on the verge of sleep.

_"Charles. I trust you remember our conversation about your grades last quarter?"_

Chuck rolled his eyes - leave it to his dad to jump right in, all business. "Yes." His answer was short.

_"Then I expect you to remember that in order to improve them as per our discussion, you need to get out of bed. Louisa says you haven't left your room yet."_

Now he had the _maids_ spying on him!?

"Apologies," he said, only just managing to sound sorry, "I… pulled an all nighter." It wasn't technically a lie.

_"I was serious about your grades, Chuck. As well as what would happen to your trust if you didn't raise them. Go to school."_

There was a click and then Bart was gone. Chuck ended the call and threw his phone towards the foot of the bed, watching it bounce on the blanket. However much he might want to fall back to sleep, though, Bart's call had officially ruined his morning and made any form of unconsciousness impossible to achieve.

He threw back the covers and proceeded with getting himself ready for the morning, begrudgingly tying his school uniform's plain gold, scarlet, and navy striped tie around his neck.

Maybe if he did it tight enough his head would pop off like a Barbie doll's - he'd like to see Bart nag him about his grades then, he thought melodramatically.

* * *

The next morning, Blair woke up slowly, with much prodding from Dorota.

She wanted to stay in bed all day, her head was throbbing, there were butterflies fluttering in her stomach for she was nervous with what would happen today, and she felt like…she felt like she was going to...

"Move, Dorota!" Blair shouted as she jumped out of bed, pushing her maid aside and rushing to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach. She'd been doing it for what seemed to be days now, only this time it was self-induced. She figured it was just her hangover, but…she'd never thrown up from drinking too much before, and it's not like she even drank _that _much.

"Miss Blair?" Dorota inquired from the doorway to the bathroom, looking down on her mistress with concern, "Should I call you in sick?"

Blair shook her head, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm fine," she insisted. After all, it was the first day back from a break and her attendance had been otherwise perfect. "Just bring me a croissant and water."

After her maid had left, Blair showered and completed her morning routine, before slipping into her uniform (topped off with a cropped striped sweater, headband, coat, and tights), and left the house for school (after having eaten her breakfast, of course).

However, immediately upon arriving, something seemed…off. The first bell rang to start the morning classes, except a loud speaker announced that the entire junior class needed to report to the head mistress' office. Blair felt her stomach drop, and her already pale face just turned whiter, as she began walking towards the main office, rather than her first period AP history class.

As soon as she entered, Blair began to feel queasy, and immediately took a seat near the front row, where Serena had already planted herself.

"You don't look too good, B," Serena stated, and in response Blair simply stared straight ahead, terrified for what would happen.

She thought she'd covered all of her bases, they couldn't know it was her! However, on the screen behind the new head mistress Queller, there was a slideshow of pictures from the event—apparently someone had left their phone.

"Lucky for you, Andrew Collins is fine…" Ms. Queller rattled on for a few minutes about how awful they were for sneaking into the pool, and how they had to write essays, but Blair was just trying to keep the room from spinning.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _

"…in other words, what the hell is wrong with you? I'll also be conducting one-on-one interviews until I discover who broke into the school and initiated the party. That person will be _expelled_. If that person is not identified, then you'll all face expulsion."

Blair's heart what thudding violently in her chest—if she got caught…there was no way she'd get into Yale, her entire life would be…ruined!

The whole time Chuck's face remained as impassive as possible - the whole time he _fought_ tooth and nail not to look at Blair, not even once. Not even when the word 'expulsion' was mentioned - if he looked at her, the old bat might actually try to pin it on her. There wouldn't be proof, but she'd get suspicious, and that would be nearly as bad. Proof could be made if it was absolutely necessary and if she was desperate enough to keep the school from getting sued by Collins' parents. There was no proof, not without the key at least, and that key could easily be pinned on whomever turned it in. Maybe he'd slip it into Humphrey's pocket one of these days and send an anonymous tip to the headmistress to search his person.

Mistress Queller allowed the words to sink in for a minute before, "You're dismissed."

A cruel little smirk had finally touched his mouth when they were all informed that they were allowed to leave, and that was when he heard Serena calling Blair's name.

Swiftly, Chuck turned his head and saw Blair's hair of chestnut curls disappearing out of the room and into the bathroom.

"What do you think- Chuck?" Nate's voice was confused as Chuck rose from his chair and made his way through the groups of people.

She absolutely couldn't be…. "Waldorf," Chuck said, rapping his knuckles against the wood, "I swear if you don't come out of there I'm coming in after you." This was _not_ something to make herself sick over. If no one talked, no one would get in trouble. They'd keep their mouths shut, write their essays (or pay someone to do so), and the scandal would die out within a month.

Blair ignored Chuck when he knocked on the door, and instead allowed herself to empty the (very small amount) contents in her stomach.

She felt nauseous, and had no idea why, besides the fact that her entire life as she'd planned it out had the great potential to rise up in flames at any moment.

Her mother didn't have enough money to keep her in school if she got expelled, and even so, the marks would be on her record and Yale would never accept her! It was preposterous. Tears stung her eyes as she reached for the roll of toilet paper to wipe at the sides of her mouth, before tossing it in the toilet, and crossing the room to look at herself in the mirror. All she saw was shame and disgrace. Though her current wave of nausea had passed, she still felt something churning inside of her. Perfect attendance be damned, there was no way she was staying at school, and she doubted she'd even be able to make it through any of her classes. Blair pulled open the wooden door to come face to face with Chuck, however instead of speaking, her expression said it all, before she was pushing past him and heading for the school gates.

Minutes went by, and Blair still didn't emerge from the bathroom. He was serious when he said that if she didn't come out he'd go in right after her, but Serena's judgmental eyes and the gossip-hungry ones of every other girl in the room were burning into him so hard he wouldn't be surprised if he fell into a pile of ashes. If he put so much as a toe into the bathroom they'd start talking, and with what Blair was already facing, the last thing she needed was whispers about the two of them. Although, he was Chuck Bass, so there was a chance that no one in their right mind would ever believe she would stoop so low as to him. Even he had a hard time believing what had happened between them had _actually_happened. He'd fantasized about it, sure, despite the fact that she was with Nate, but he never thought she'd actually let him touch her with a ten foot pole. So, he probably could just waltz right in and no one would think anything of it. Before his hand could so much as graze the handle of the door, though, it was swinging open right in front of him. Chuck's eyes lifted and locked with hers, a twisting feeling settling deep within his stomach as he looked at her. She was pale, and her eyes lacked the scheming determination that he'd come used to seeing in them over the years. She looked… resigned. Or worse, like she had no plan for how to overcome this. "Blair…" he said her name under his breath, but she went right by him, exiting the room and then the building.

Nate intercepted her, however, and his hands wrapped around her waist as he tried to gauge her vision, "Blair, hey…" he started quickly, "Serena told me that you…" his voice was incredibly low, so that they were the only ones to hear what he was saying.

_"Nathaniel Archibald, please report to the headmistress' office."_

She pushed his hands off of her, as if burnt, and responded quietly, "I wouldn't have if I knew this would happen," before she'd stepped past him as well.

However, it was Serena who finally got to her before she actually stepped off of school grounds, "B!" she called after her, only successfully stopping her by gripping her coat, "If you leave now, they might suspect you." Blair turned and seriously considered what Serena said. Her eyes quickly moved up to where the girls of Constance and boys of St. Jude's were now congregating for the morning break period, since the meeting had taken up quite a bit of time. She had four classes left in the day.

Only four classes.

She supposed it would be better not to leave, and explain herself to the headmistress, but the nausea seemed to want to take over…

"I need to find Chuck," she stated quickly, before wandering back into the school and searching for any sign of that signature scarf.

The wheels in his head clicked at a mighty pace as he strode towards the courtyard where the rest of the juniors seemed to be dribbling into for break time. He didn't know why Blair was so upset - yes this was a mess, but did she honestly think they wouldn't get out of this? Queller couldn't _afford_ to kick out the junior class, she couldn't even afford to suspend them because that was asking for at least three million dollars to be pulled from donations by their parents. The school was paid to make sure that they had access to all the best education and that as much as possible was kept off their record to continue on that track towards an Ivy, _not_ to suspend or expel them.

He knew, though, that suspension and expulsion were two of the worst words in a Waldorf's vocabulary. Especially when she had her sights set on Yale and everything until this point in her academic career had been done with the plan of getting into that school. If Blair didn't get Yale…. Well, at least she'd be able to stay here with her _wonderful_ boyfriend. The thought was enough to make _him_want to be sick - suddenly the prospect of Blair disappearing to New Haven sounded a lot more palatable than having to watch her settle for some New York school she didn't even want while holding onto Nate's arm the entire time.

The vision was broken by the sight of Blair appearing before him and then grabbing him by his coat to tug him away. The din of the courtyard became muffled as they entered the quiet part of the girls' hall, and the sincere fear in her voice was so strong he could taste it.

"Chuck…" she began, in some way trying to find words to explain, "I—didn't…what you _thought _I did…," she swallowed thickly, "I just… I don't know what to do. What if I _lose_ Yale?" Her eyes were pleading, he always had an answer, always had a way out. Unlike the Nate Archibalds of the world who would just tell her everything was going to be okay, Chuck…he offered a sense of comfort that couldn't be provided by her 'boyfriend'.

"You're not going to lose Yale, Blair," he said, relieved that his own concern had been put to rest. Whether it was true or not, he wanted to believe it was true, that she wouldn't do that to herself over this. "They're not going to find out it's you. There's no way they can kick out a quarter of their students, and there's no way they'd want to risk your wrath if you had your record ruined." The faintest of smirks pulled his mouth up. "They have no way of knowing it was you," he lowered his voice as he said the words, the golden key that resided in his care entering his mind, "all they know was that you were there, and so what? A lot of us were, so was Collins. We just had the good sense not to get thrown unconscious into a pool." He paused for a moment. "They'll give it up eventually," he said confidently, eyes boring into hers. "I promise."

_"Charles Bass, please report to the headmistress' office immediately."_

The sound of the loudspeaker was loud and somewhat clear, and he exhaled heavily.

"I won't say a word." He said firmly. "Life would be far too… dull… without you around here." There was an uncharacteristically sentimental edge to his voice, and it was then he realized how close they were and how empty this hall was… if he just leaned forward a little bit….

With his lips set in a thin line he turned without another word, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach of the butterflies that dared to appear again.

* * *

The headmistress was waiting for him when he got to her office and he lazily slouched into the plush chair that was waiting for him.

"Mr. Bass. I've been reviewing your record while waiting for you, and I have to say, you are far from what St. Jude's would call a model student." Chuck shrugged - he'd been well aware of that for years now. "You've been caught several times with marijuana on school property, your average is only just below that of Mr. Nathaniel Archibald's, one of your best friends is Serena Van der Woodsen, whose record is far from pristine herself…. It seems you make a habit of finding trouble." Queller closed the folder she'd been looking at while Chuck wondered if it was really necessary to keep track of his personal life in the file. "Tell me why I shouldn't believe it wasn't you that broke into the pool house?"

He was silent at first. Because I'm Chuck Bass was on the tip of his tongue, along with many other eloquent lies. Blair's earnest eyes as she confessed her fear to him, though, were strong in his mind, along with the vision of Nate holding her, comforting her… undressing her and spending a lifetime with her.

"I can't." The two words seemed to take her aback, and he shrugged. "I was bored, I wanted some fun. Like you said, I do have a habit of hanging out with the wrong crowds."

She pulled herself up to her full height as she sat before him.

_"_This is an interesting, if unsurprising development. But how did you get in, Mr. Bass?"

Was she stupid? "I have a key."

"But you see, so did your friend Mr. Archibald. Only he failed to describe what the key looks like, or its keychain, or anything about the key, really. Can you do any better than him?"

Nate had confessed? But why? The answer was obvious - _Blair_, which meant Serena had gone and blown her cover. Fine friend she was. As _touching_ as Nate's action was, though, it wouldn't help Blair if he didn't have proof.

"Gold," he said flatly, "curly-cues. As for the keychain, I want to say it's a red ribbon," he pretended to be uncertain, "but I think a maroon or burgundy would suit it better, don't you?" He told her smartly. "I can bring it in tomorrow, if you'd like to see it."

Queller's gaze was icy as she looked at him. "Yes, you do that, Mr. Bass. We'll discuss your punishment then."

Chuck nodded, getting up out of his chair.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get to."

* * *

The next morning, he did exactly what he said he'd do and went to Headmistress Queller's office first thing, dropping the key onto her desk with a soft, metallic 'thunk.'

She looked at it long and hard before turning upon him.

"Very well. I'm extremely disappointed in you, Charles."

Like he hadn't heard those words before.

Not five minutes after he'd left her office, a meeting was being called for all of the juniors once more, and he filed into the room with the rest of them, seating himself next to Nate with Serena and Blair across the aisle.

"During my meetings with each of you, I've made several interesting discoveries." Queller addressed them all. "There was not one, but two confessions to the incident."

_Two confessions? _Relief immediately flooded Blair's system, her body seemingly coming back to life as the thought of getting through this unscathed flitted across her mind, but…who could it be? Her eyes immediately shot across the small isle to where Nate and Chuck were sitting.

"Mr. Nathaniel Archibald, however, was not the person who committed the crime, and it is my belief he was trying to protect the real perpetrator. However much this illustrates his loyalty, I'm afraid that as punishment for his good deed, Mr. Archibald will now face suspension from St. Jude's. And yes, this will go on his permanent record."

She nodded towards Nate who resignedly got up and walked out of the room.

"There was one person, however, that not only said they did it, but who could procure the proof. Given their record, I'm hardly surprised." She gave a pointed stare at Chuck, and he met her gaze directly. "It is with great displeasure that I expel Mr. Charles Bass on the grounds of responsibility for throwing an illegal party on school property after hours and providing narcotics and alcohol to minors. Mr. Bass."

Chuck leaned down to retrieve his schoolbag before getting up and swinging it over his shoulder, following the same path out of the room that Nate had moments ago.

"Was it really you?"

A slow-walking Nate asked Chuck as he walked right past him. He stopped for a moment to turn towards his friend, and he was silent for just a moment.

"Yeah," he said, voice hollow. "I broke in, Blair was just… the one who came up with the idea." He shrugged. "She shouldn't lose Yale because of it."

The two of them shared a look for a moment, an unspoken question lingering in Nate's eyes. Rather than even acknowledge it, Chuck nodded and continued on his way to his limo, and once inside he instructed Arthur to return him back to the Palace. It wasn't like he was just going to hang around school property all day - Queller would probably have him arrested, and as much as Bart would probably be unsurprised, he'd like to keep the number of incidents Bart would have to wipe off his slate when he got home to a limited number. As it is he knew he was facing months of restrictions on his accounts for actually getting himself expelled from school and for some kid nearly dying. He should probably place whatever orders he needed to now before he had to go without. There was a buzz in his pocket and he pulled out his phone to see a new blast from Gossip Girl, and sure it enough it detailed the entire scene of Nate's suspension and his expulsion.

**_Spotted: C and N leaving St. Jude's in disgrace. We always knew C would get N into a sticky spot one of these days, but we never thought it would be one that C couldn't get himself out of. Looks like our days of getting smoke caught in our hair is over, ladies. If you want to comfort the poor Motherchucker, I'd say your best shot is tonight. You know you love me. XOXO, Gossip Girl._**

* * *

A few minutes after they exited the room, Ms. Queller dismissed the juniors, and Blair was the first one out the door, running after the two boys who'd just hurt their own future for _her_.

It was almost expected of Nate to do so, because he was her kind and caring boyfriend, but…Chuck?The only motivation he had was…

A pang of adoration struck inside of Blair; he really wasn't the cruel Basstard everyone said he was. He was much, _much_ more.

The first person Blair got hold of was Nate. He was crossing the courtyard of the school, and she called out to him in order to halt his exit.

"Nate," she stated quickly before stepping in front of him, "Thank you."

Nate smiled and nodded, "It was worth it, Blair. I know how hard you've worked for Yale, and…I love you. I'd do anything to protect you."

As he leaned in for a kiss, Blair reared back, "I'm sorry Nate…but you and I can't happen right now."

Outrage and confusion flitted across his features, "Why not?"

Blair inhaled a deep breath before…"I don't want to be with you."

As Nate sulked away, Blair searched around her for Chuck, but he couldn't be seen anywhere.

There was no trace of him, which meant he'd probably already had Arthur take him home. After all, he was…expelled. She felt guilty, there was no denying that, but she also couldn't help but feel like she had faced a huge revelation. He had selflessly gotten himself expelled for her, and not because he was her boyfriend, not because he wanted anything from her.

He did it because he liked her, because he knew how much Yale meant to her…Blair sighed, and though she wanted to go after him immediately, she figured it'd be best if she wait.

She didn't want Nate getting any ideas.

As soon as school was over, Blair instructed her driver to take her to The Palace Hotel. She needed to thank Chuck, needed to…_see_ him. It didn't take long before she was standing in front of the door to his suite at The Palace, lighting knocking, and hoping that he didn't answer it with a bottle of scotch in his hand or a call girl in his bed. She hated knowing that his father would probably disown him for getting expelled, and he'd self-medicate on drugs, alcohol, and sex.

When he opened the door, she stepped forward until there was practically no space between them, and laid the softest of kisses on his lips.

"Thank you."

* * *

**AN: No sexy times at the pool, but who knows, maybe that's a one-shot idea we can bank? **

**The conflict isn't over just yet, so sit tight and we'll have the next bit out to you as soon as possible! B and I are both going to be a little busy this week, but we promise that we'll do our best to make an update happen while we're sprucing up the sequel to _Whenever, Wherever._ In the meantime, if you fancy yourself as the reviewing type, we'd love to see what you think so far!**


	3. Bitterness

**A/N: Hello? Is anyone out there? Can anyone hear us? Yes? Fabulous. We have thousands of reasons about why this took too long, but we won't list them all now cause then there would be no room left for the chapter. Onward!**

* * *

A month.

It had been _at least _a month since he'd kissed her last. Before cotillion, and that had been well before Christmas, just after Thanksgiving. Too long…. It was broken far too quickly and he inhaled deeply, finally, catching a faint whiff of her perfume - that was how close they were - as his eyes opened. He was, in a word, confused. He wanted to grab her tight and pull her inside and show her exactly what she'd been missing while he was gone. He wanted to ask her what the hell she was even doing here, if she meant to be here, if she meant to do that. And what about Nate?

He settled for a combination. One arm wrapped securely around her slender waist and he spun her so she was inside the room now and he kicked the door shut. His mouth was slanting over hers, then, and he was kissing her in a hungry way that matched the need that he held for her that perpetually boiled inside of him. He was memorizing the shape of her mouth, those full, silky lips, and the way it moved against his. He was memorizing the way she tasted, the way she felt as his tongue swept inside and against her in a gentle but insistent rhythm. He took in a deep, shaky breath when he parted from her and his chest heaved against hers.

"That," he started, voice gravelly, "is how you say thank you with a kiss. Or have you forgotten everything I taught you?" His words were suggestive, but the reality of their situation - of her situation - soon settled over him again. "I suppose I can sympathize with the fact that you might not want to kiss _me_ like that, though."

Instead of responding, she dropped her purse on the floor, and kissed him yet again, this time it was deeper, more passionate. Gently, she pushed him until his back was up against the door, and her body was pressed firmly against him (in a way that they just fit perfectly).

It had been way too long since Blair had kissed him, and it was becoming increasingly clear that it was his attention she craved, and not that of Nate. She broke when it became necessary for air. When they parted, his breathing was heavy, and his eyes were nearly pitch black as they fastened on her, questions swimming in them. Forgive him for being cautious, but the last time it had seemed Blair wanted him, she'd changed her mind not five seconds later.

"I haven't forgotten _everything_, Bass," she now responded, sass dripping from her tone.

"No," he mused, the word a little choppy given his breathing, "I suppose there are some… _parts _that would be impossible to forget." He gave her a lewd grin.

Blair suddenly became very serious, "What you did for me…it was…"

His grin faded and he shifted marginally, uncomfortable at the beginning of her sentence. "It was nothing," he tried to brush it off.

She paused, trying to find her words so that it wouldn't scare him off. "I told Nate I didn't want to be with him." She added, hoping that saying that would somehow explain how she felt. Using words like "romantic" and "sweet" around Chuck wasn't such a good idea. He seemed to be able to pull off the acts with flawless perfection, but using those words to describe him…Blair knew he wouldn't be too fond of it. Instead he liked being called a sexual deviant, a Basshole, and a pig. Her free hand slowly raised to his tie, which had already been loosened from his neck, and she gently tugged to loosen it more.

"Why?" he asked, voice tight and cautious. Forgive him if it all just seemed a bit too good to be true. He could feel his heart banging against his ribcage as her dainty hand reached up to tug at his tie more.

He never thought he'd want to hear those words, except in the past few months they'd been all he wanted; all he wanted, and yet she refused to fork them over, claiming that Chuck needed to prove himself first, that he needed to behave, that Nate was nothing, but not nothing enough that she would denounce him. He'd wanted her to say them so, so badly, but he hadn't been willing to admit to himself just how much until now when she said them. Now that she'd said them, though….

"I don't know…" it was true, she didn't there was just something…that didn't feel right. "But I think it was the right thing to do."

The butterflies in his stomach beat their wings furiously when she gave her answer. The right thing to do - no one ever thought he was the right thing to do. Unless they were a slut that took the meaning of the words entirely the wrong way. There were hardly any words to describe how good it felt hearing _he_was right over Nate.

"I'm sorry," she said now, quietly, "I never wanted you to get expelled."

"It's not a big deal," he muttered faintly, "Bart will have it cleared up the minute he finds out. I wish it could last longer."

His hand pushed under the hair that fell down her back and cradled the back of her neck before he was bringing her in for another fiery kiss. She still smelled the same, felt the same…. Still holding her tight against him he pushed away from the door and began shuffling them back towards his large bed, a bed they'd occupied a handful of times before. He nudged her gently so the both of them toppled onto the bed and he trapped her between his body and the mattress. Her leg automatically hitched up over his hip, and a grin broke out on her features when he spoke, his words not so subtly hinting that he wanted her around a lot more than she had been in the past month.

"I'll need someone to keep me company," he husked as the kiss was broken, "until I'm allowed back in school," he pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat. "Someone to bring me my homework." Like he'd do it. "Someone to make sure I don't fall behind," he grazed her collarbone with his teeth, prying the collar of her blouse back from her creamy skin.

"I'll be sure to ask around, and find someone to do that for you," she stated smartly, her finger's popping one of the buttons of his shirt, her dainty hand slipping over his bare skin and wrapping more around the back of his neck as his mouth's path veered downward.

There was a deep sound of mild annoyance in the back of his throat at her sarcastic words, and he hiked her leg higher around him and fit himself against her more firmly before pulling the buttons of her crisp blouse open.

"Good," he said the word defiantly against her skin,"make sure she's smart and doesn't mind if we study in bed." More buttons were popped on her shirt, moving right down to the waistband of her plaid skirt, and his hand slid smoothly over her stomach and then under her back, easing the shirt out from all around her.

Blair bit her lip to contain a soft whimper, she was still relatively new at this, and it had been nearly a month since…well, since her and Nate had sealed the deal. And to be blatantly honest, it was nothing like she'd imagined—was significantly less than she'd hoped for. Being with Chuck was…incredible. Her body was still so new to this kind of attention, every little touch and kiss always excited her beyond belief, her skin hummed whenever the pads of his fingers grazed her flesh. It was cruel, and it as unfair, because the way he affected her was preposterous.

"You know, I could be your tutor…" the idea was brilliant, and she congratulated herself with a grin. Assuming Chuck got back into school, no doubt Bart would be on his ass. She'd have an excuse to see him more, without having to actually admit she wanted to see him more. Of course, there was no guarantee they'd actually get any work done, but they had a lot of the same classes, and she assumed she could be of some assistance to his declining GPA.

He gazed down at her skeptically when she brought up her idea. "Many have tried and failed to get through to me, Waldorf," he informed her, a sudden light catching in his eye, "the only thing I'm up for practicing is physical activity," he husked, nipping her bottom lip.

"Seriously," she murmured, her hands gently easing his shirt off his shoulders, "I could…come over after school," her leg slightly tightened around him, her hips experimentally rubbing up against him, "And I could tutor you in whatever classes you need to pass, and you…" she smirked, reeling him in for a short, hard kiss, "…could _teach _me stuff, too."

"Chuck," she gently tugged on the back of his head so he would look at her, "Do you…" she started slowly; she'd originally intended to ask if he meant what he said, if he actually wanted to see her more. Be around her more, but, for some reason, she couldn't get the words out. She felt naïve, and didn't want to ruin what they had started. "Nevermind," she muttered, before leaning in to trail kisses along the column of his neck, her hands fisted in the yellow collar of his school shirt.

"What?" he asked her as her started question was steered off course. He inhaled and felt his jaw tighten as she kissed over his neck, and he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Blair," he pushed his hand up under her skirt, searching for the beginning of her tights, "tell me," he pulled her earlobe in between his teeth. He cleared his throat gruffly, weighing the words he was about to say on the tip of his tongue. They were ones he loathed saying, and ones he'd really only said with her. Various other versions of them had included, _if you don't want to do this then leave,_ and _get out if you can't handle it._ Blair was… different, though. For one he had to deal with her on a daily basis, and she'd never forgive him if he treated her the way he treated almost anyone else.

"Blair, we don't… if this isn't why you came here… we don't have to." Reluctance and regret stained the words, though he tried very hard not to let them. Yes, yes they did have to - he had to be buried inside of her, had to feel her nails scraping unforgivingly against his back, wanted to hear those soft, wondrous sounds that she made rise and fall with the waves of ecstasy he was throwing her into. Wanted to hear her say his name, and not in his imagination while he reminisced about her.

"This isn't _why_ I came," she spoke, almost as if she was annoyed, "But if you stop now…" her tone was slightly demanding, a light warning on the edge of her voice. There was no way she was leaving his suite unsatisfied, and after all, he'd already opened up her shirt and was working on getting her tights off…her La Perlas were practically soaked through (thanks to his damn slack covered crotch rubbing against her In all the right ways), and, well…she wanted him, badly.

The fingers that were searching over her thighs for the tops of her tights pressed into her slightly more in a sensual way.

"Isn't it?" he teased her in that sandpaper voice of his, dragging the pads of his digits lazily up and down her leg… remembering what it felt like as he clutched its bare silkiness as he drove inside of her at a maddeningly slow pace. The annoyance that split her voice was amusing, he had to admit. He grinned, a wicked grin that wasn't tempered by any sort of humor in his eyes. "What if I did stop?" he spoke nonchalantly, rolling his hips forward against hers through all their clothes. "What if I left your…." He paused, biting his tongue to refrain from using the vulgar wording that, at this point, just didn't seem _right_ to use with Blair. She was Blair, not some common lay. "What if I left you aching," his tongue flicked out against her neck, "_dripping_ and begging to be filled?" He was rocking his hips against her gently, an erection growing and straining within his pants, one that was dying to be squeezed by her once again, and as he did so his fingers hooked into her tights and began to pull while she rid him of his shirt. He was only half-listening to her when _she_ was rubbing against _him_, and suddenly she had his full attention.

"You wouldn't dare," she stated, lust and outrage burning in her deep brown eyes that were darkening each second he spoke, touched, and kissed her.

"Maybe," he breathed once the kiss was broken, momentarily maneuvering himself so that he could pull the dreaded white tights down her legs. "If I'm going to be..._teaching_ you, I'll need to evaluate you first," he informed her, as he moved down her body to rid her of both the tights and her shoes. "You might need remedial lessons." And he was going to enjoy every bit of them. He returned so he was hovering over her again and his one hand slid under her skirt to brush over the drenched piece of cloth for her underwear. "But it feels like you're ready to learn," he commented, voice tight and his erection painfully harder. His fingers felt thick and clumsy as he pushed the fabric aside and his teeth pressed tightly together while he stroked gently at the slick, wet folds between her legs. With nearly anyone else he couldn't give a damn if they came or had foreplay, but with Blair….

"Did you miss this?" He asked, trying not to reveal how much he cared about her answer.

"Yes," she hissed, her teeth clenching, hands fisted in the bedspread, before his fingers were moving, and…"Chuck!"

He stroked languorously along her entrance before suddenly he was pushing two of his digits inside of her, sliding them deeper and curling them up inside of her. He was in a remedial lesson of his own at the moment; he knew that he'd felt it last time. He'd memorized exactly where it…. _There_. The pads of his fingers pulsed up inside of her, massaging the spot that had driven her to one of the fastest, most powerful orgasms he'd seen the last time he touched her.

"Chuck," she repeated, mouth slightly open in a silent exclamation of pleasure, "If you…" she moaned, trying extremely hard to focus on something…anything besides his fingers and how good they felt, "If you don't stop, I'm gonna…"

He inhaled deeply as he pulled his fingers back and then thrust them forward again, curling them against the spot that had her undulating her hips up against his hand, trying just as eagerly as he was to get _more_. She was so smooth, and wet - he felt like he could keep pushing and he'd never find an end to that pleasurably tight sensation. She was warm, too, and he could feel the odd squeeze every now and then of her walls around his thick, exploring fingers. If he were inside of her right now… if she were contracting around the length that was throbbing angrily in his school slacks…. His eyes closed tightly for a moment and it was taking every bit of his self-control (self-control he hadn't even known he'd possessed) to not unbuckle his pants and plunge into her bare.

"You'll what?" He goaded her in a low voice, pressing into that spot again as he pulled his fingers nearly all the way out of her. He felt heat explode across his shoulder underneath the spot where she clung desperately. He kissed the gentle curve of her jaw before his nose was skimming along the edge until his mouth rested near her ear.

"You'll what, Blair?" he taunted her in an arrogant, seductive way. His thumb felt blindly for a moment while his fingers continued their penetration of her, but it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. The pad of his digit covered the small bundle of nerves easily, and as his fingers pushed, pulled, curled, and gently (very gently, more gently than he would with anyone else) stretched her entrance so she could accommodate him more easily, his thumb circled the slippery bundle of engorged nerves. "Are you going to come, Blair?" he asked lazily, flicking his thumb over her clit lightly. "Are you going to scream?" He swallowed hard, then, because he'd absolutely love it if she screamed - hell, let the whole damn city hear so that they'd know who she was with and what they were doing to her.

"_Yes_," she immediately responded to his question, her voice shaky, as her body prepared to tip over the edge. Her hand fisted in the sheet until her knuckles turned white, focusing on that goal before…

"Let go," he urged her, "Let go and then I'll show you…." Show her how much he'd missed her. "I'll show you what you've been missing."

"Oh my…._Chuck_!" she shouted before her walls were closing in around his thrusting fingers, her back arching off the bed while her eyes stayed stamped shut. Her hips slightly undulated against him as she rode out the last few waves of pleasure, his promise ringing in her ears. She'd just…and he wanted to…_again_? Right after…_that_?

The way Blair seemed to just give her body over to the sensations, completely unabashedly and unafraid of what was happening, it was incredible to watch, and it inspired an odd bursting feeling in Chuck's chest because _he did this to her!_ And he was convinced he did it better than… anyone else ever could. Chuck's eyes fell closed when he felt that final tightness around his pushing fingers and she gave a shout of his name, and he swallowed a groan in his throat as her back lifted away from the bed from the intensity. There were no words for how her lips felt on his, then, hard and insistent, looking for connection even as her body quivered under his with his fingers still inside of her. His tongue swept gently against hers and he eased her mouth wider in one of the most gut-wrenching kisses he'd ever had (_the _most gut-wrenching, probably, not even one of); he felt like he was plummeting to the earth and rising at the same time.

Blair watched with hooded eyes as he descended her body, a contented sigh leaving her lips as he kissed her skin from her neck and then down. She could get used to being greeted like this, like she was actually worth something, like she was _desirable_. When he removed his digits from her, she whimpered at the loss, but it was soon forgotten when she watched the incredibly erotic sight of him cleaning his fingers…with his _tongue_. Whatever hesitations she might have had about a second round were completely erased by the wave of heat that spread throughout her body as she watched him.

Then he was unfastening her skirt, pulling it down, and throwing it to who knew where in his suite. The same action was repeated with her underwear and he took half a moment just to look at her because it had been so very, very long. His mouth opened, but he shut it quickly - he was overcome by the urge to tell her just how incredible she was, but that reticent part of him refused to let the words out, so he settled instead for kissing her abdomen an moving up her stomach to her ribcage and stopping at her bra-covered breasts. He grazed over them with his nose - he'd always liked them - before he reached under her and nimbly unfastened the structure.

"Off," the single word was gruff and he moved away from her to give her room and to open the bedside drawer of his nightstand.

She was happy to comply with his command, and sat up, pushing her blouse and blazer, which had been simply strewn open, off of her shoulders and tossed all three articles of clothing off the bed, while Chuck reached for a condom.

His mouth went dry watching every rise and fall of her chest, the breasts that had always seemed so perfect to him (even when he wasn't supposed to know how perfect they were) taunting him with their pebbled nipples and the rosy flush. How every man (and woman) straight or gay in New York wasn't trying to vie for his position right now was a mystery to him, but it was a fact that he was sincerely grateful for. He'd win of course, he thought arrogantly, he'd win every time, but the more time he spent fighting for his rightful place the less time he could actually _be_ in this place. And how she ever had a doubt that she was desirable… how she ever thought that people wanted _Serena _over her was beyond his comprehension.

Serena was good-looking - he as a man, he was Chuck Bass, he had teenage hormones coursing through his body, and he wasn't blind. She was sunny, and bright, and could let loose at the drop of a hat (or, a drop of gin into her martini glass), and it was fun and contagious and made people like her. Blair, however… the subtle sway of her hips as she walked was just as entrancing if not more so than the blatant bounce of Serena's breasts as she bounded from place to place energetically. And it was the most striking moment when good-girl Blair let down her hair to show off her rarely displayed wild side. It was the cool exterior and the fire below - it was looking for the treasure rather than having it all laid out before him.

There was a crinkly tearing sound as he pulled the packaging of the condom open, and a clang of metal while he undid his pants, his throbbing length thanking him.

"What do you want?" He asked as he rolled the condom on. Although there was a sensuous edge to his voice, this time the question wasn't meant at all to tease dirty words from her pristine mouth. He was, literally, giving her an option as to how this happened - she was still so brand new (compared to him), and she was Blair, that he would do the unprecedented and let her decide if she was the one in control or if he was.

Blair moved to her knees, and placed both hands on Chuck's shoulders, laying a very gentle barely-there kiss on his lips, before rearing back only slightly, her lips a hairsbreadth away from his, "Get on your back, Bass."

Chuck found his own hands resting on the slender curve of her waist as she touched his shoulders and gave him a whisper of a kiss. It was precisely that layering of hers, that hot and cold, that made it so attractive when she indicated what he was to do, how _they_ were to do this. He'd always figured Blair to be the strictly missionary type, falling back into a submissive role in the bedroom and making her lover do all of the work on top. While she clearly enjoyed being on her back (and he enjoyed having her there, too), it also seemed she was particularly adept at taking control, and mere notion of her stepping up in the bedroom was hot. Watching her in practice… well, there was a reason why he was so swift to comply with her command. He exhaled shakily and closed the minimal distance between them for a very short kiss before his body was falling back against the bed, one hand falling away from her completely while the other dragged its way down the supple curve of her ass, down the plane of the back of her thigh, and then to the juncture of her knee.

"If you say so," he said smoothly, eyes dark and burning with arousal as he looked at her… waited for her in agony to relieve them both.

Blair found his comment slightly patronizing, but mostly just took it as a challenge. She'd only just began being comfortable with taking charge in the bedroom, and she was still learning and experimenting with what felt good, and what got the best reaction out of Chuck (Nate and her had only had sex once, and he's insisted on taking control). As her gaze swept across his form, she slowly lifted her leg and swung it over his hips, the tip of his erection bumping up against her drenched center as she did so, inciting a shudder in Blair.

She decided that, since he was so insistent on controlling her every move, and taking his sweet time doing what he wanted, that she'd do the same (after all, he was her only teacher and she learned by example). She leaned forward, gently laying a kiss on his lips, before it veered off to the side, and she peppered them over his jaw, to his ear, and down his neck.

Once she reached his neck, her kisses slowed even more, and she gently sucked and nipped at the flesh, purposely trying to leave marks on him, simply because she could. He may be known as the biggest play boy in Manhattan, but knowing that he'd probably be with other women…she wanted to leave her mark, let all the high class call girls to know that he'd been with someone else, and they'd been _better_. (She was fairly sure that anyone else who tried to mark his skin would be kicked out within seconds).

Blair smiled against his skin before moving back up, her teeth gently grazing against his ear lobe, "Do you want me?" she asked, though she was already well aware of the answer. She moved her hips slightly, experimentally, and she grinned, hoping that this was torture for him.

"Yes-s." The word was hissed, choked at the end much to his chagrin when her hips glided above his and she _teased_ him with her entrance. His fingertips tightened against her hipbones for a moment and he fought the urge to thrust forth (_still too new, too tight, can't do that to her_) up inside of her. "Yes, I _want_ you." The words were practically growled in their ferocity and he hoped that they would be enough to get her to just…. His lips parted in anticipation as she righted herself above him, his gaze was burning into her.

And then she was taking him, _all of him_, inch by inch deep inside of her and he felt himself getting squeezed while her walls stretched to get him in. A long, rumbling groan inside of his chest echoed loudly against his will and his teeth gnashed together while he used every bit of control to not push up against her. It was such a tight fit and it felt fucking glorious.

"Easy," he grunted the word, a gasp framing it. The last thing either of them needed was for her to take too much too fast - he'd gotten her off beforehand firstly for their own enjoyment and secondly to make sure she'd be ready for this, but he was still mildly concerned (only because it was Blair, he insisted furiously). His eyes were heavy with lust as he looked up at her, the most wonderful look of pleasure scrawled across it, and he lifted his hand to her breast, grazing one of her nipples with his thumb.

"You alright?" The words felt odd, mechanical, because Chuck Bass didn't ask about the girl unless it was extremely evident something was amiss. This was Blair, though, and he needed to make sure there wasn't a serious reason why she was torturing him by not _moving_.

"Ye-_yes_," she groaned, her response more than enthusiastic as she began to move her hips against him, her eyes rolling up into the back of her head at all the sensations coursing through her. She listened carefully to the sounds he made, trying to gauge what he liked, while also focusing on her own release.

After a few moments of trying different ways to move her hips, and different speeds, she fell into a rhythm that seemed…natural. Slowly, she opened her eyes to stare down at him, her fingernails slightly biting into the skin on his chest as she rode him at a torturously slow pace, "Do you like this?" she asked curiously, her voice barely-there. She had a feeling that there was nothing she could do wrong, but also she couldn't help but to feel…subpar. After all, he was Chuck Bass and this is basically what he did for a living, and she was new and just beginning to figure things out.

"Yes,'" he muttered, voice raspy. He swallowed once, twice, trying to get his vocal cords to work. "Yes… _fuck_, Blair, you can't even… can't even…." She couldn't even begin to imagine how good this felt for him. A sharp, startled grunt flew from between his lips as she bucked forward suddenly, and he felt his length react in approval, and his hand slid from her breast down to wrap over her ribs. Fuck, did they get any tighter than she was? He couldn't remember the last time, apart from her, it had been like this. Everything just felt better, more intense, like _he_ was a virgin again and had to remember that he had years of experience and would _not_ embarrass himself in a very specific way.

"Chuck…" she swallowed thickly, brows knit together in concentration, "You're so…" her hips lurched downward again, a moan slipping past her lips and coating the word, "_big._"

He surged forth in time with her, the minimal level of extra force adding just the right touch… almost. "Fuck, Blair," the words were pitiful as he tried to hold onto his sanity when she sank downward once more. "I need you to… I want… I…." His mind was shot, and there was no tactful way to ask this where it wouldn't sound selfish, but he could feel his balls tightening with an impending release, he just needed a little bit more…. "Blair, can you please… pleasepleaseplease," the muttered words slurred together, "move… just a little…." Faster, harder, he just needed the extra push that his own movements would ordinarily provide him, but his mobility was limited, here, and he needed to rely on her to gratify him.

She smirked for a second as he, the great Chuck Bass, was practically begging her for a release. This would be one for the ages. She nodded slightly, as if in understanding, and began moving her hips a little bit faster, rocking them down against him slightly harder. Blair arched her back as a sudden wave of ecstasy crashed over her, movements becoming even more erratic, her hands no longer being used as leverage against his chest as she allowed her full body weight to lift and descend on his wide girth.

A low sound of approval reverberated in the back of his throat as she picked up the pace and force of her movements. Her walls were stroking him faster now, and he felt her descending upon him with greater intent every time her hips fell back to his. She looked so damn amazing like this, looking for her own end and visibly losing control of all of her rational thought. It was becoming clear in the way she was moving at a reckless, frenzied pace that it was the drive for an orgasm spurring her on rather than her own deliberate motions, and being privy to something like this was… incredible.

"Come on, Blair," he muttered the words tightly, his own brow furrowed as he fought to hold onto something, anything that let him keep his wits about him. "_Fuck_ you're tight, so fucking-" His sentence got lost and he gasped for air, his hand slipping over her sweaty skin from her breast down to her waist again where he guided her steadily as she began to lose command over her own body. "That's it," he muttered under his breath as she rode him, "That's…."

"_Chuck_," she gasped slightly, eyes rolling shut as she rode him with reckless abandon, "I'm…_oh_…" she swallowed thickly, her hips surging forward once, twice, "_so_ close…" and a third time before she was gasping and moaning his name over and over and _over_, her walls tightening around him in a vice-like grip as her juices spilled out around him and her body tensed, taught a bow, her orgasm so powerful she could have sworn she saw lights flashing behind her closed lids, her body's exertion leaving a light sheen of sweat over her porcelain skin.

His eyes closed despite himself as her channel clamped down around his pulsing erection and he thought ne nearly died from the intensity of how good it felt as she came, _hard_.

With the way she was coming, and the way that she felt, it only took a handful of thrusts more for the churning heat that had built up inside of him to spill forth. He let out a strangled shout and he felt his heels dig into the mattress firmly as he pulled her down on him one last firm time, and then he exploded into the condom, She collapsed on him before he was finished, and it took him a few moments more before his muscles softened from their arrested position and he felt like he was able to breathe again. That had to be one of the most intense… body-consuming orgasms he'd ever had. One of the hands that had clutched at her waist so desperately loosened its grip so his arm could sling across her lower back, pulling her close possessively in the aftermath.

Whatever they had, whatever they'd have in the future was no longer something Blair worried about, for all she knew was that this was something that would be happening way more often. He was better than any alcohol, high-priced pedicure, or massage therapist. And she wanted to selfishly keep him for herself.

"Oh my god," she breathed against his neck, body slightly quaking with aftershocks.

_His_, he decided.

She was his, and he'd be damned if he let anyone else touch her. From now on she'd be too occupied being with him to even look sideways at anyone else.

"Wow," he said as he exhaled, eyes slowly opening to a world that seemed brighter than it had pre-orgasm. "That was…" his arm tightened around her. That was every reason why he'd missed her and then some. That was every reason why she was his. "That was fucking incredible, Blair," he said, a raw honesty to his voice, the warmth of her body lulling him and easing him out of the shock his body was thrust into after experiencing such intense sensations.

As they both slowly came down from their high, Blair was increasingly aware that she was actually…cuddling with _Chuck Bass_. While Chuck Bass didn't endorse rules, he had a few cardinal ones that he insisted on never breaking, for everyone's own good. Although it probably wasn't at the top, no cuddling was _very_ close. It sent the wrong message, it was too intimate and personal and… warm. Typically when girls tried to cuddle with him he would let a grace period of ten to fifteen seconds pass before he was easing out from under them, away from them, off of them, however they had him trapped.

There was a part of him, now, telling him he should do the same with Blair - she'd collapsed on top of him, and it had been an ego boost to reduce her to such a pile of mush, but her time was long up. Any sharp words, though, died on the tip of his tongue, and his muscles refused to solidify in order to try to push her up or push her gently off him. The longer she stayed, the more he felt her body imprinting its shape and weight on him, and the warmer he felt as he cooled down from their exertion. She felt… good like this. Just a soft pressure on top of him that told him someone else was there with him. It was that goodness that was mildly troubling to him - he should really _want _to get rid of her, but he didn't seem to have it in him. Just because he wanted to keep her around to see if she had anything else in store, he assured himself. Why wouldn't he want to keep the door to that option open?**  
**

With discontent Blair realized that the nausea, that had disappeared for most of the day, was starting to come back and hit her. She tried to push the waves of sickness that tried to take over her away, and instead focused on Chuck, grinning against him as he complemented her, nuzzling gently against his neck and savoring these few rare moments before he was back to being a Basstard. She wished she could stay with him, she truly did. She wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon and night with him, just in his bed fooling around, but she had to keep her grades up if she was planning on getting into Yale, and that meant that she needed to get an A on her English paper that was due tomorrow. She figured she'd put it off just to stay with him, but…another wave of nausea hit her, this one more powerful than the last, and she found herself swallowing thickly, before reluctantly pulling away from him.

It was a surprise for him when her cheek was finally pulled away from his chest and their sweaty limbs began to disentangle from each other. At _her_ initiation. A frown flickered over his face for a moment, and his brow remained furrowed as he looked at the pallor of skin. While she was normally very fair skinned, she looked sickly now, and ghostly white. He was silent as he propped himself up on his elbows and watched her clamber off him and start to throw her clothes on again. Normally he was the one making excuses and trying to run out of the room like it was on fire, not the girl. She was moving too fast for him to evaluate her or to even think to ask what was wrong, and every time he _did_ open his mouth she was saying something else.

"I…I have to go," she said solemnly, a look of displeasure on her pale face, "I wish I could stay, but…" she swallowed again, "I have a paper due tomorrow and…" _I'm going to throw up,_ she gulped, slipping on her last article of clothing, and trying her very best to keep her composure. The last thing Chuck needed to see was her running off to the bathroom to vomit, especially after…_that_.

She returned to the bed momentarily, leaving a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. Chuck cupped her chin, holding her in place for a moment longer than she probably wanted - if she was going to run out on him like this he'd at least not be cheated of his kiss. Even that was over too soon for his liking, though.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Chuck faintly muttered, "See you," as his parting.

She grabbed her purse and was out the door in the next moment, rushing for the elevator to take her down to the first floor where she could use the bathroom there. After embarrassingly running through the lobby and unloading the contents her stomach in the bathroom, she did her best to hide her face from prying eyes as she exited shamefully and hailed a cab to take her back to her penthouse.

* * *

The quiet was so strong he could have heard a pin drop, and it was hard to believe that minutes ago she had been with him, _on_ him, gasping, and moaning, and shouting his name. Left alone with his own thoughts, pessimism began to nibble away at him. She'd come to him, but could it just have easily have been Nate in his place? Why _hadn't_ it been his shaggy-haired friend? She'd said…. But what exactly had she meant by it? She'd run out of there awfully quickly, so what was to say this time would be any different than the last time they'd done this? _Women_ he thought to himself as he finally got out of bed and pulled on his boxer shorts before traipsing to the bar. They were enough to make a man go insane.

_"I'll see you tomorrow."_

Except tomorrow had come and gone two days ago.

_Two._

At first Chuck had just believed she was being Blair - caught up in a scheme, holding court with minions, researching SAT prep courses... But it had soon become apparent that she was being _Blair._ Terrified of what it meant to align herself with Chuck Bass, pining for dear Nathaniel, and no doubt trying to find a way to fix the golden couple. While school had never meant much to Chuck, he'd gotten _expelled _for her! He was facing countless threats and perhaps a short reduction of flow into his trust. This, he thought over his glass of scotch, was why women weren't worth it. Fuck them and leave them begging for more like bitches in heat before they drained him dry themselves. If she was going to pretend like nothing happened, so could he.

He pretended with every blonde and redhead the Palace staff had to offer - no brunettes. He wanted them to be her polar opposite.

If she could forget him, he could forget her too, and it was precisely this petulant retaliatory tactic that had him cursing her name. He never would have given a damn if a girl forgot him before - namely because no girl before had ever been able to forget him, and he was saved the trouble.

There was a knock on the door, and Chuck glanced towards it. Clothed only in his boxers, he was strongly considering ignoring it -_ especially_ if it was Blair. Let her think that he was out, forgetting her. With great effort, though, he heaved himself up off the couch and wandered with leaden feet over to the door to yank it open. Instantly, his back was ramrod straight while he blinked, stunned.

"Dad?" A greeting, a question. "I didn't think... I wasn't expecting you."

"Of course you weren't," he immediately snapped back, before allowing himself into Chuck's suit, hands stuffed stiffly in his pockets as his cold blue eyes scanned the place. "You know, Chuck, if I'm going to be keeping you housed at the Palace, the least you could do is allow my staff to do their jobs," he gave him a pointed look, "Their _actual_ jobs."

Chuck bit his tongue to hold back a snide remark about the jobs that the staff was good at. "I assure you they're being very hospitable to the occupants of the hotel," was all he settled for instead.

Bart chose to ignore Chuck's comment and stepped farther into his suite, picking up a purple robe and tossing it at Chuck. "I think it goes without saying that I'm very disappointed in you, Chuck. Again, which quite frankly isn't very surprising. Getting you out of this situation wasn't easy. Head Mistress Queller has a heftier price than the last one, but she agreed to accept you back to St. Judes. You will be going back to school on Monday. You will be cleaning up your act. Your grades will improve, and you will stop embarrassing me. Now, do I make myself clear or are you needing a little more explanation in this early morning alcoholic stupor you seem to have put yourself in?"

Chuck's lip curled in a surprising sneer. "Since when do you bother to make a personal appearance to lecture me on my personal conduct?"

Bart just stared at Chuck, "Every once in a while it might be a good idea to remember who pays for all of this. Who pays for you to act like a child. I'd always hoped you would turn out differently, but I guess we can't always choose our family. Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important things that need my attention."

* * *

Chuck had waited for her (pathetically, he'd sneered to himself) not just the first day, but for several days after as well. Each day that passed and her knuckles failed to tap gently against the door to his suite was a day that his pessimism regarding where they stood grew tenfold. He'd known she hadn't meant it - she might have been grateful to him for keeping her Yale dream alive (was it even worth the scolding he'd gotten from Bart if _this_ was the end result?), but that was all it was. A pity fuck. For all he knew she could be feeling guilty because she and Nathaniel were, in fact, a couple and she'd basically cheated on him out of thanks to Chuck.

But she'd seemed so….

He squeezed his eyes shut, simultaneously trying to banish and cling to the memories of the way she kissed him, touched him, rode him for all he was worth until she was coming undone around him. She'd seemed so… genuine. So passionate. So fiery and like there hadn't been anywhere she'd wanted to be except right there with him. Except then she hadn't shown up the next day and he was left to exhaust his stash of condoms with random other women that his week of freedom afforded him. She hadn't even brought him any of his homework (not that he cared about it); Nate had, out of nothing more than duty, and Chuck had felt a growing resentment toward him each time he showed up, equally as downtrodden over the same woman, except Chuck had to listen to it and couldn't tell Nate _why _it was imperative he shut up about it.

Now, he was back, dressed in his uniform and lounging around waiting for the first bell to ring to signal all the stragglers to head inside to their classes. It was some sort of self-hatred that compelled him to wait to see if she showed up, he was sure. For all he knew she could already be inside, but he passed his time scrolling through the newest Gossip Girl blast while he waited. His eyebrows rose slightly when he saw the grainy picture of Serena and a pregnancy test. My, my, that was a surprise, and such a disappointment. Even the question shouldn't have to come up, especially not with someone as classless and plain looking as Dan Humphrey. Once he got out of here he'd probably go to Hunter or Brooklyn College - NYU if he was lucky - and he'd never amount to anything more than a writer with his computer holed up across the bridge.

The fate for his soon-to-be sister was too tragic to think of.

And it was fate exactly that prevented him from doing so when Blair Waldorf arrived right then, strolling through the area with her head held high and a nonchalant look about her. Like a week ago she hadn't nearly lost her place in school; hadn't shown up at his door and driven him wild with the basest form of lust; hadn't just seen the same blast they all did about her best friend, a pregnancy test, and the Brooklyn Menace.

"Waldorf," he drawled lazily, raising his voice from the spot where he leaned against the wall, "long time no see." There was a flicker in his eyes.

Blair was startled when Chuck seemingly popped up out of nowhere, she stopped her bee-line for class, and slightly reared back, her façade breaking as his eyes bore into hers, "Bass," she responded in greeting, before eyeing him from the top of his lazily combed hair to his expensive shoes.

"Didn't you think I deserved some _company_ during my exile that wasn't paid for?" To anyone else the words were innocuous enough, but he made sure the meaning was clear to her.

She swallowed at his words, guilt filling her. She'd not only caused him an expulsion, but told him she'd visit and…didn't. So, of course, instead of saying 'I think I'm pregnant', she chose a much more realistic response, one that she'd convinced herself was true, and stated, "I had food poisoning," her face was blank, and offered no room for argument.

Skepticism crossed his features and his eyes narrowed on her. "Food poisoning." He repeated the two words flatly, clearly not believing them. Food poisoning for a week? Food poisoning that let her go out and about (to his knowledge) but not even come in the same vicinity as him? Food poisoning sounded a lot like a convenient excuse to avoid him and whatever excursion they'd both gone on that afternoon. If she changed her mind, he thought bitterly, she could at least tell him about it to his face rather than ignore him and leave him wondering what the hell was going on in that head of hers.

Blair charged on. "Besides, I'm sure it wasn't _that_ horrible…you've got call-girls on your speed dial." Her words were vicious, but her tone was playful. She liked keeping their relationship under the radar, not only for Nate's sake (and their well-being), but because it was, well…fun.

"I do," he agreed with a nod, "and if all else fails there's always room service." His lips twisted meanly with the words. If they hurt, good, if they didn't he'd try harder. Childish as it may be, he wanted to lash out at her. She'd just not shown up, and he'd been counting on it, and the fact that he'd been counting on it was infuriating enough without adding in his disappointment when she hadn't shown up. This was exactly why he didn't get involved with women long-term, but with Blair being part of his usual circle of friends, it was hard to avoid her, and without avoiding her he was always reminded of just how intoxicating she really was. How one look from her could have him following her straight to her bed if she batted her eyes in just the right way.

She offered him a small, seemingly genuine smile, before the bell was ringing, signaling them to head off to the first class of the day. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get to class, and so should you. I'll see you later."

"I wouldn't count on it," he called after her as she gave her parting words. After all, she'd said almost exactly that when they'd last seen each other, and that had been a week ago.

As she walked past him, she couldn't help but feel a growing pang of worry, after all…he could be the father of…no, she refused to accept that she might be pregnant. Her head seemed clouded by the same thoughts all day, which made her classes seem ten times longer. When the bell finally rang for lunch, she went to the steps of the Met, and greeted all of her minions, but noticed that Serena was missing.

A voice from behind signaled her to turn, and she came face to face with a very unhappy looking Serena. Blair offered a fake smile, angry at her friend for daring to purchase pregnancy tests (that's what maids were for!), "So, S, should I be expecting a new addition to the van der Bass family, soon?"

Serena glared at her friend, "Really, B? I took this hit for you, but unless you take this test—" she began to pull it out of her bag, to which Blair immediately shoved it back in, and gave her a look of outrage.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Serena discreetly transferred the test into Blair's bag, "Just take the test, okay?" before turning on her heel, and walking back to the main campus grounds (no doubt to her Brooklynite boyfriend).

* * *

It was later towards the end of his break while he was smoking a small roll of hash just outside the gate (it was foolish of him to do so when he'd only just returned - it was like he _wanted_ to get expelled) that he was confronted with Serena, a cloudy look on the normally sunny blonde's features.

"Serena," he greeted her as he inhaled, "Allow me to extend my sincerest condolences," his eyes dropped to her stomach and he motioned towards her midsection, "I know I'm not the only one to say that you could do so much better than Humphrey, and now you'll be stuck with evidence of your short lapse in judgment."

Annoyance broke out on her, but the distressed look she sported still won out.

"Chuck," she began in a sharp, quiet tone. "Despite your every effort to try to prove me wrong, I'm really hoping that somewhere inside of you there's a decent person who cares about others."

He snorted. "Not likely."

Serena's eyes were steely as she looked at him. "Blair, then."

And he didn't say a word to that, simply sucked in off the joint.

"I shouldn't be telling you this at all, but I'm at a loss for what to do now since she just won't listen to me. The test… wasn't for me. It was for Blair."

His tongue suddenly felt like the tip of his joint had been stubbed out on it. "Only she's refusing to take it. So given that if she's pregnant then you're the father-"

Chuck shook his head sharply then, the words Blair, pregnant, you, and father not quite meshing together in his head. "No," he said, the word crackling through the space between them.

"Chuck-"

He reiterated the word. "You would have thought with how close the two of you are that she would have informed you of the fact that I take care of my business." Every time… right? "But apparently _Nate _doesn't," the words were stuck in his throat more than he meant them to be, the idea of Nate and Blair and a baby just…. Serena looked stunned and her mouth fluttered open and closed. "So perhaps it's Nate you should be going to." With that he threw his joint down to the ground and crushed it beneath his shoes before heading back inside for his final class of the day.

The news that Serena had dropped on him, though, had left him floored and his stomach churning. Blair? Pregnant? Serena had said he was the father and he'd denied it vehemently, but what if… what if he was? He was sixteen years old and she was seventeen - they might be rich but that was no… this was no…. His thoughts refused to formulate properly even as he climbed into the limo after class and helped himself to a healthy dose of scotch in the mini fridge in the back of the limo.

"Waldorf penthouse," he instructed his driver with a rough voice. Butterflies were exploding in his stomach everywhere, but not for the reasons that usually plagued him. Betrayed as he felt by her, he had go to Blair and find out what was going on. He'd get there, he was convinced, and find her sprawled across her bed struggling with trigonometry problems that he couldn't even pretend to fake his way through, and then when she looked at him like he was absolutely insane and vowed to dangle Serena from the top of the Empire State Building by her hair, he would be free to return to resenting her. He moved on autopilot through the lobby of her building and into the elevator, and once he stepped out into her penthouse, he called out.

"Blair?" he said, voice more tentative than he'd have liked. A scan of the living room revealed nothing, so it was up the stairs he went and he made a beeline for her bedroom door. It was cracked open and he pushed against it, but didn't see her at her desk nor on her bed, so he stepped inside of her room. "Blair…." His eyes landed immediately on the closed door to her bathroom and his heart dropped to his knees.

"Blair," he said her name sharply as he knocked on the door, "open up, now."

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**A/N: -Twiddles thumbs- We spy with our little eyes something happening on the Upper East Side. If anyone's still out there reading, please do review and let us know. We love hearing what you think. We do have a few other things in the works, but the response to this story in particular has been crazy, so we decided to bump it up to first priority over the sequel to Whenever, Wherever. We have, however, been working on it, as well as a Chairmas one-shot. In any event...leave love. Let us know your thoughts, and we are so sorry for taking forever to update! Hopefully the smut makes up for it? xD  
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**As always, follow us on Twitter for updates, etc at DevilandQueen  
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**xoxo  
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**-B&C  
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	4. Revelations

**A/N: Us again! We're trying to make up for lost time by posting this extra soon... is it working? We know you probably have lots of questions after last chapter, so we won't keep you with endless chatter. Enjoy!**

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"I'm not pregnant."

"I'm not pregnant…I'm _not_ pregnant…" she repeated the words over and over, as if saying them would make it so as she waited for the pregnancy test to show a blue negative sign (because there was no way it would show a positive one). She held the little piece of plastic in her hand until her knuckles turned white, scared to look down and view the results.

Blair took a deep breath, counted to three in her head, and then looked down to see…

"I'm not pregnant..."

She chanted the words again, but it seemed it was no use. Horror filled her, because this…no. This had to have been a mistake. She immediately rushed to open a new box and do the test again, but to her dismay, it offered the same result. The pink positive sign wasn't disappearing, wasn't changing. Every test she took offered up the same answer. Before she knew it, she was keeling over the toilet and unloading the contents of her stomach for the second times that day. Whether it was the morning sickness or her sheer terror she didn't know, but at this point it didn't even matter, because she was _pregnant_…

Blair flushed the toilet, and stood up to wash her face, trying to contain the tears that threatened to spill. This couldn't happen to her. She couldn't be pregnant, and she couldn't not go to Yale. She figured this was her karma for allowing Chuck to take the hit for the party _she'd_ planned. Some cruel, _cruel_, karma. Blair stood to look in front of the mirror, all of a sudden the small amount of weight she'd gained looked tenfold more, and her eyes bugged as she realized…she realized that she'd be gaining more and more weight. She realized that she'd have to drop out of high school, and…she didn't even know who the father was! Shame was the next emotion riddled on her face as she washed her mouth out with water, and she heard…_Chuck._

"Blair, open up, now."

_Oh god_.

Blair immediately grabbed all the packaging and pregnancy tests, stuffing them into the trash can and trying to cover up any of the signs that she was upset. She swiped at her eyes, and fear struck her when she heard him knock on the door. He was probably just pissed at her for earlier, come to lash out and tell her that she's a bitch and doesn't deserve anyone. That was, of course how she felt at this particular moment in time, and she solemnly thought…_it must be the hormones_.

She slowly approached the door and pulled it open, frowning at him but only in a why-are-you-in-my-house way.

"What are you doing here, Chuck?" she asked harshly, refusing to pull the door open all the way in hopes that he wouldn't see the evidence of what she'd been doing in the bathroom.

What was he doing here? It was a few simple words, but for him the question was loaded.

_See, Serena told me that you were refusing to take a pregnancy test and asked if I could help. Just curious, but since we've been together multiple times, and multiple times in one day, is there even the slightest chance that I could be behind this?_

The answer didn't exactly flow off the tongue, and the phrasing was escaping him at the moment.

He looked…nervous, serious, and she could faintly smell a mixture marijuana and alcohol. She scrunched her nose up in disgust, "It's barely four and you're already succumbing to drugs and alcohol?" she asked in a disciplinary tone, her eyes slightly rolling in annoyance.

"Consider it my pre-dinner cocktail," he said dryly, hating the judgment in her voice. There were only two people that could make him recoil like this, and the only other one was related to him. Blair had always been the toughest on him out of their group of friends. Nate guffawed or shrugged his way through Chuck's antics, and Serena either followed suit or made exaggerated sounds of disgust. Blair, while doing a mixture of the two, also was the only one to actually _talk_ to him, positively or negatively. She'd let him know exactly how low she thought he was, or exactly what he'd done right. Over time, her judgment (the good kind) had been something he'd begun to strive for, and getting the opposite now was nearly as sharp of a sting as Bart's disapproval would be. He couldn't let that deter him, though, as much as he was inclined to do so; he'd come here on a mission (and miraculously snuck past Dorota, so he wasn't going to waste it).

A thought struck Blair…if he was the father of her child…how was she supposed to raise it all by herself? She doubted Chuck would be any help, he couldn't even do his assignments on time…taking care of a baby…she could just see it now.

Chuck with the baby in one arm, a lit joint in the other.

It made her stomach churn in a way that had her nearly gagging, she needed to get him out of her penthouse. Needed him as far away as possible. "If you're here for some _company_, as you put it earlier, you might want to contact one of your call-girls. I'm busy. So, you can leave now."

His eyes were blazing and the faintest light of outrage sparked up in his eyes when she gave her decree. "No," he said instantly, refusing to just get out. "I don't want them." His tongue licked at his lips, which suddenly felt dry, and he opened his mouth. "Tell me," he said quietly, "that Serena doesn't know what she's talking about. Tell me that she's scared she… she messed up her own life, or that she's getting back at you for _something_," he paused before continuing on, "Tell me that she was wrong when she came up to me at the end of my break and told me that _Blair refused to take a pregnancy test_ and that I needed to convince her to take one. Don't worry," he added only slightly caring, "no one heard."

He wasn't sure what he wanted to hear. Ideally, that Serena had clearly been slipped something to cause such grand delusions. But, if that wasn't the case, then he wanted to know she wasn't pregnant. Because if she was… he didn't know which was worse. A child wasn't part of his plan, certainly not when he was still a junior in high school and preparing for the SATs (not that he had any intention to take the test himself). The thought of her being pregnant with Nate's kid, though… it was enough to make him want to recoil, he felt like he'd been slapped across the face at the mere idea. He didn't even know if she'd have any way of knowing who the father was - and then, if knowing who the father was would determine who it was. For all he knew, it could be his DNA but she'd decide Nate fit better with her picture.

Blair crossed her arms over her chest in a hostile stance, making sure to keep the door closed just enough so that the trash can was out of sight, her palms slightly clammy as she anxiously waited for him to leave so she could grieve over her lost life.

No more parties, no more drinking, no more Yale.

She'd be a high school dropout, get kicked out of her house, end up in one of those disgusting community colleges and get a job at a corner store.

This was just becoming all too real.

Blair scoffed, and tried to wave what he said off as a nonchalant sigh, "S is just lying to you, she obviously can't deal with the fact that she might be pregnant so she…she's trying to blame it on me," she could hear her voice becoming slightly more high-pitched as she panicked to find a good explanation.

She was trying hard to keep up the façade—if word got out that she was pregnant…even that the tests were meant for her, it'd be chaos. Not only would that rumor spread, but who was the father…word would get out. If she got a paternity test, people would know. Nate would be crushed, Chuck would avoid her, she'd be…alone, a queen dethroned.

_Off with her head._

She felt another rush of nausea but ignored it.

"So, you can relax now. Celebrate, even." Her words were blatantly sarcastic and vicious, "You can even do so in the comfort of _your own_ suite, or even better, go to Butter for a drink. If you'll just…" _get out of my house so I can continue with my emotional breakdown._

Chuck felt his own heart rate starting to escalate, and the clothes he had on suddenly felt like too much. Why, exactly, hadn't he taken his heavy winter coat off when he'd come in? Why was he wearing a blazer? Was his tie always this tight around his neck?

"What did I say about your ability to lie, Waldorf?" His own voice was slightly pinched and had a strange edge to it that spoke to the sheer terror that was rippling through him.

"I'm not leaving until I get the truth." The words were fierce and there wasn't a speck of insincerity to be found in them.

Dorota was up the stairs the next second, her voice ringing out from the hallway, "Miss Blair, Miss Serena just call me. She say you have to take test?" Blair grit her teeth together, and immediately tried to find an exit strategy. However, she was once again trapped by Chuck, unable to get away from the truth, which he seemed to be doing a lot of (not that her lying was even that convincing). Her lips were set in a hard line, and she didn't say anything, and just waited for him to lash out at her.

He rounded on Blair as the maid's words finished and his brow was dented deeply in a scowl.

"We both know," he began, bordering on a snarl, "that Serena isn't capable of laying down a plan this elaborate to get _Dorota_ in on it. She has no idea I'm here, so either you two really _do_ go through everything together, or one of you is lying about it in the first place." He took another step forward. "And I don't think it's the one that's not in this room." She _looked_ like she was lying, too. Her face was just a bit too composed, a bit too much like a marble statue for it to be genuine. She wasn't angry, or annoyed, or anything that would indicate that if it were a lie that she didn't like the lie. She looked, instead, like she was trying to keep her face too neutral, like the news wasn't a surprise to her. Like she didn't want to react, and that was reaction enough for him.

The longer she went without correcting herself, the more he wondered how bad the news was - although, it couldn't really get much more… disappointing, than yes, could it? There was another stab at his gut when he envisioned a pregnant Blair, stomach fully rounded out, and two hands resting over it protectively. One was masculine, and the other was hers, simply adorned with the Van der Bilt family diamond. The sight he'd dreamt up made him swallow convulsively to push what seemed to be bile back down his throat. Maybe it could, indeed, get slightly worse than simply saying she was pregnant. Although right now…. She was finally speaking again and he could tell by the gentle glaze of tears over her terrified brown eyes that things hadn't gone the way she wanted them.

It was so incredibly unfair that he could see right through her. She remembered back to around two weeks ago when he'd last been in her room, and he'd last pulled the truth out of her. Most others would take her lies with a shrug and disregard, but he pushed her to the limit, something she hated, but also had a slight appreciate for. He may not want to admit it, but he cared, a whole damn lot. And the fact that he was Chuck Bass just made that even more evident. When his voice lowered to a growl, and he stepped forward, Blair immediately reared back, trying to get farther away. She searched for words, but fear gripped her and tears stung her eyes. He had the worst timing ever, she was…she was in no position to start talking about this now. Not right after she'd…

"I took the test," she said quietly, her voice not like that of Blair Waldorf, queen B, but Blair Waldorf, defeated and surrendering. She slightly allowed the door to open more, allowing the small trash can stuffed with the evidence to come into sight, "It was positive."

He was silent, frozen in place as she revealed it, and his lips pressed together tightly when she said it was positive. He was trying to look to see if she was lying, just to get rid of him, but when she swung the door back his eyes fell to the trashcan that was filled with not one, but two tests.

They were all he could stare at for awhile, like by just looking at them he could make them disappear. If they were gone then they wouldn't be in this mess, they could just pretend… they could just go back to the day that she'd come to visit him when he'd gotten expelled on her behalf, when everything had felt fresh, and new, and hopeful. Hopeful that she'd finally chosen him over his perfect, old money best friend, despite all of his imperfections and tendency to stray. But now that hope was eclipsed by that vision he'd imagined, and it made _him_ want to throw up from anger and jealousy at how unfair it was. There was no way she'd pick him if it was Nate's, there was no way Ann Archibald and Eleanor Waldorf would let her flit around with the _Bass boy_ while she was having Nate's kid. Unbidden, another image was conjured up in his mind. Blair's stomach, heavy and swollen with _his_ child, and his own hand placed tentatively atop it, with no hideous Van der Bilt diamond in sight. It was the most petrifying thought he'd ever had, but it didn't make him nearly as sick as imagining her future with Nate.

She dared a glance up at him to gauge a reaction, to see if he was even still there. After all, she expected him to hightail out of their and disregard her for the rest of her miserable existence of it ended up being his. Chuck Bass and babies weren't compatible.

Chuck Bass and _commitment_ weren't compatible.

"The morning sickness started after the pool party…" she began slowly, trying to fill the dead silence with something…anything, "That's why I didn't visit you while you were expelled…I was…I didn't _know_ what to do," her tone quickly hardened and she looked at him with unadulterated resolve, "If you tell _anyone_, Bass, you're a _dead man_. And now that you've gotten what you came for…you can show yourself _out_." She immediately swiped at her eyes when she felt an uncomfortable moisture against her cheek, and frowned at him, waiting for something, anything. She inwardly grimaced, thinking that this would be the last time she ever spoke to Chuck Bass.

Chuck focused on her once again, but ignored her words to leave, watching instead as she tried in vain to get rid of the evidence of her tears. He felt like forever passed before he was finally trying to pose his question. "Is it…" his voice was hollow, uncertain, "Blair, is it… when will you know if it's…." He tried _very_ hard to ignore the fact that she and Nate had slept together, but now it was unavoidable and it was horrible. "When will you know if it's Nate's?" He spoke lower than before, the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

She swallowed thickly at his question, "I only slept with Nate _once_, Chuck," she snapped, annoyance staining her tone, "Chances are it isn't _his_." She stared at him with a serious expression. He needed to either get out of her life altogether, or clean up his act and start being more responsible. Obviously, however, being irresponsible was how they'd gotten here.

"I _know that_!" He exclaimed sharply, hating the memories of that night at Cotillion that flashed across the insides of his eyelids. "Don't you think he would have told me if you _finally_ stopped ignoring him and let him touch you again?" The words were dripping with the true level of bitterness that had been bubbling up inside of him for over a month was finally starting to come out. "Don't you think he would have said it was even more incredible than the first time? The first time that I had to _hear_ about?!" He wanted to tell her, in a smart ass way, that sometimes all it took was once, that was what all those after school specials said. But they'd been together… so often. Just in that brief window of a golden era when he'd had access to her every day. When he'd been teaching her to enjoy all of the new exciting sensations that she'd never felt, at least not like he brought them out in her. No one before him (that is to say Nate) had ever taken the time to make sure she enjoyed herself, and watching her finally embrace the quaking shakes of her body as she experienced a powerful orgasm at the tips of his fingers… it was one of the most gratifying things for him, even when he literally got nothing out of it. They had been together far more often than she and Nate had been together, and that tipped the odds in his favor tremendously. He was thoroughly unprepared for how… how relieved that made him feel. He was relieved to know that regardless of when she officially found out if it was Nate's that she would maybe, just maybe, be finding out that it wasn't Nate's. And if it wasn't Nate's, it was _his_.

Somehow, it was his.

Despite the numerous condoms they'd gone through… hadn't they? He knew that first night in the limo they had definitely used one, and for many of the times after, but every time? He struggled to remember her seventeenth birthday party… sleeping with her had been the last thing on his mind (perhaps not the very last…) and he'd been positive that regardless of whether she warmed to him she wouldn't be shedding her dress for him anytime soon. But then Nate hadn't shown up and had been spotted with some faceless girl, and she'd been so upset when he was giving his present to her. Then she was kissing him with such earnest thanks and lust that he hadn't cared that they were in someone else's bed technically (not that he ever did) and that he didn't have anything with him. She'd had her blood warmed by saki, and he'd indulged in a healthy amount of scotch, and her body had felt so soft and _good_ against his when they were both trying to gain the upper hand while they pulled and tugged at each other's clothes. The only thing he remembered was thinking that she was so damn beautiful and that he was winning and he was going to get to be _inside_ of her again. He could've sworn they used something that night, but did they? If they hadn't, and she'd gotten pregnant then, long before Nate….

"Blair…." His voice was unusually helpless, and he was at a loss. This wasn't a situation he could buy his way out of, it wasn't something his father could pay to go away. Jesus, his father… Bart would be furious when he learned that his only son was about to be a father of his own. Was he, though? The thought seemed ludicrous, but he imagined that especially if it were his kid that Blair wouldn't be entirely opposed to the idea of trying to make it all go away and pretend it hadn't happened.

"What are you… are you going to…?" If it were anyone else he'd welcome the idea of an abortion, and perhaps even request it. But if Blair made that her first choice, if she did it without even a thought, it would feel like a rejection of him, like she disliked him that much that she couldn't stand to be carrying his offspring for any longer than she had to.

Blair stood rooted to the spot, his question posed striking a chord in her.

What _was_ she going to do?

Even if she wanted to, she couldn't keep the baby. She could just see the disapproving looks from everyone at her school. She'd be a social outcast. She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off, and his words, eyes, body language…it all read…scared. Terrified-matched the look of longing and confusion in her own.

"Don't." He wasn't even sure if she'd answered him, and he wasn't sure when his gaze had narrowed in on her stomach. "Don't, I'll… I promise I'll take care of you." It was a foreign promise he never thought he'd make, but he couldn't not make it to her. She was Blair and she brought out the strangest feelings in him (butterflies, for one), and he'd known her his whole life. She schemed, and was smart, and witty, and the most incredible person in bed despite her inexperience. She'd also emasculate him if he walked away, but that wasn't even an option.

"I know I'm not a Van der Bilt," there was a hard edge to his voice, "and I know it's your decision, but please, Blair, just let me try." It was in her court now - either she accepted his offer on the basis of him being the father, or she reject him in a way that left him no choice other than to turn on his heel and leave.

When he finally got out what he was trying to say, she could have sworn she felt something fluttering in her stomach, but she chose to disregard it. Even as the sprout of hope burst inside of her, that _maybe_ the great Chuck Bass would want to be with her…she couldn't believe it.

"Chuck...I don't..."

Blair stared at him, the silence in between them deafening, and that was when it hit her.

_"Are you sure?"_

_"I haven't slept, I feel sick, like there's something in my stomach, fluttering."_

_"12:01, I'm sorry."_

_"Something this beautiful deserves to be seen on someone worthy of its beauty."_

_"I really am sorry."_

_"If you don't come out of there I'm coming in after you."_

_"I promise I'll take care of you…please, Blair, just let me try…"_

He did care, despite what she wanted to make herself believe. He was the one standing in front of her, making sure she was okay. He was the one who had kept her secrets. He wasn't Nate, but she was quickly staring to realize that she didn't want Nate. And Chuck may not be a poster boy for kindness and compassion, but he did treat her like she was…special, different, _important_. With that, she swallowed thickly, and looked up at him, one last question standing in between whether he walked out the door forever, or replaced Nate in her life.

"Are you sure?"

He'd never had something… someone… to take care of before. For as long as he could remember it had been himself, and although he'd cared about his father, Nate, and his friends, he'd never had to take care of them. Buying bagels for Serena and covering for her from Lily was the closest it had ever come for him. He'd never had to take care of an actual person that would depend on him before… depend on him as in life or death, hunger and nourishment. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing or saying or how he would follow through on it, but he knew that she was Blair and she gave him butterflies. He had to try, he wanted to…. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when she asked her question. No, he wasn't sure, but could he ever be sure when it came to something of this magnitude?

"Not like I have a choice," the words could have been brutal, but there was a soft, quiet edge to them that said he didn't mean them at all in the harsh way they could have been taken. Something sentimental wouldn't have been his style. His hand, which felt stiff from the way he'd clenched it during their conversation, lifted to mold to the shape of her neck, but he stopped before he could touch her, unsure if he was allowed to come near her. She was the only person he'd ever really cared whether they wanted his attention or not.

An extremely small, barely there smile appeared on her lips at his answer. It had been the first of the day, the first real one of the entire week. She'd had this air about her, one that said she was Blair Waldorf, and you weren't to question her. No one had asked her how she was doing, no one had bothered to call or text her, to see if she maybe wanted to go out. She'd come home every day after school and suffered with guilt for not going to the palace, and sulked, her mind going in circles with trying to figure out whether or not she was truly pregnant, and if she was, what she would do. She never that that within a thousand years Chuck would…he'd want to take care of her, and the unborn baby. Did this make them…were they now a couple or something? When he reached out, but paused, she first looked at his outstretched hand, and then his eyes, where a look of uncertainty lied. She then reached up, taking his hand in hers and intertwining their fingers, before she stepped forward and kissed him. It was a soft gesture, but…there were no ways to thank him enough for what he said he'd do. Taking care of her was one thing, but standing by her side while she was pregnant? She owed him the world.

She pulled back slightly then, her nose brushing against his. She truly appreciated him, liked him, wanted him, needed him.

Cared for him.

He was…a lot different than people said he was. Than she'd thought he was her whole life.

_Please_, he found himself pleading with whatever was out there to listen to him. Please, don't let him fail her. He didn't think he could bear to see the disappointment, or hatred, or any other negative emotion that would be found buried deep within her eyes if he did this wrong. It was a fear that was enhanced by the fact that he had no idea what the _right_ way to do this was (Bart had been Bart, and Chuck had bounced from nannies, to an au pair, back to nannies, and then more au pairs - basically, he hadn't learned stability or the right way a child should be taken care of).

His eyes opened slightly when the kiss ended - he could feel the tingle on his mouth from where they'd been fused - and he looked down at her silently, hanging onto words she hadn't even spoken yet. She was so close, he could kiss her again if he wanted to. He _did_ want to, but….

"I…" she whispered quietly, unsure of how to fill the silence, but wanting to say _something, _"I'm glad that you're the one with me…not Nate." It was the only way she could figure out how to express her current feelings for him, future feelings for him. She was determined that had it been Nate come to see her, he would've left when she told him to, wouldn't have second-guessed her for a second, left her to continue with her emotional breakdown.

Oddly enough her words made him soar. How could he explain that he was glad, too? This wasn't technically a happy situation. They were teenagers for crying out loud, even if they did have money at their disposal they were still young. It wasn't ideal by any stretch of the imagination. But he was fucking thrilled it was him and not Nate… to not even have a _chance_ with Blair in the future was unimaginable. "Yeah." He murmured the word, the follow-up _me too_ hanging in the air unspoken.

Glad as he was that it was him and not Nate, though….

"I'm sorry," he muttered, swallowing tightly before finding his voice and continuing, "I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted." She was Blair Waldorf and status was important to her, and once news of this got out…. It wasn't like they could keep this hidden forever. Even if they avoided each other, at some point her stomach would grow and it would become obvious, especially if she had to skip out on portions of the school year. The thought of her wandering back into Nate's arms to comply with the assumption that people would make that it was his was enough to make his blood boil, almost as much as the idea of what people would say if she denied it was Nate's but didn't say it was his. He'd be damned if he just watched her walk into his best friend's arms while carrying his kid, and he'd be damned if he let the petty bitches of the Upper East Side say anything derogatory about the boy or girl that was inside of her. He recalled the necessity for their secrecy in the first place - Blair hadn't wanted anyone to find out, and Chuck hadn't wanted Nate to know. As much as he'd loathed the other boy in recent times for intruding upon what Chuck felt like was his now, he was still his best friend and he still depended on him for company and advice. Learning that he'd slept with his long-time girlfriend ages ago, and several times, in addition to getting her pregnant wasn't bound to go over well. There was no choice now, though, and it was clearly going to happen.

"Are _you_ sure?" He asked her then, still close to her mouth. She'd asked him, but he hadn't asked her. This was her reputation on the line, after all.

Blair exhaled a shaky breath.

This was it.

Her answer would officially seal the deal, they'd be…a couple, or whatever. But wasn't it what she wanted? She liked Chuck enough, and he obviously liked her, and he wanted to be there for her, and she wanted him there for her…

"Yes," she breathed, kissing him again.

Chuck let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, and his other hand went up to wrap around the back of her neck while he kissed her back fiercely with his heart hammering in his chest. Maybe that future he was dreading would come to pass, maybe she'd wind up hating him as she got bigger and the judgment that surrounded her grew as well, but she was choosing it anyway instead of taking the easy way out and ending this now. The kiss was suddenly breaking, though, and his brows furrowed as his eyes shot open in protest.

It was a very bittersweet reunion.

They were both terrified of what was to come, but…they at least had someone, exclusively…right?

"No more call-girls," she added quickly, slightly rearing back so she could look at him and tell him she was being serious. She didn't like the idea of him in bed with faceless, nameless females, as much as he liked the idea of her with Nate. He may not want others to know that he'd gone soft (even if just a little bit), but she didn't want him womanizing every female that came into sight, it…churned her stomach in an unpleasant way.

What the hell did call-girls even have to do with this? It began to slowly sink in, though, that they… the two of them were sort of… were they a couple? The word hadn't been in his vocabulary before, but it seemed that's what he'd stepped right into. What else was he expecting? To say he would stand by her, take care of her and their baby, but oh wait, don't expect me to actually settle down and _be_ with you while I do it. No, he'd basically asked for it… for monogamy, with her. His eyes scanned her face while he thought. Monogamy… with her…. It was monogamy, but if Blair was involved…. He had the strangest idea that it might just be possible. During their brief affair, that was almost what it had been like. He showed up at her place, she showed up at his, he picked her up from school (discretely, of course)… he hadn't laid a finger on another girl the entire time, preferring, instead, to wait for her. He rested his forehead against hers briefly before kissing her.

"Alright," he declared and kissed her again, and again, with a little more pressure each time. "They're going to think we're insane," he informed her into the kiss.

"You won't regret it," she promised smartly, a clever smile on her lips as she graciously accepted his kisses. Her own free hand gripped the lapel of his blazer, and she leaned more into his kisses, a content sigh spilling from her lips, "Maybe we are insane," she commented softly, but not harshly, "But at least we're insane _together_."

She pushed him backward then, wanting more than anything to just get the hell out of the bathroom.

"When do you have to be back at the Palace?" she inquired curiously. After all, he was now her…boyfriend, if you could call it that, and she needed to know these things. For example, whether or not he had a curfew (she doubted he did but there was no harm in asking). She wasn't sure if Bart ever came to check up on him, and she'd even heard Serena talking about him possibly moving back into the van der Bass home.

"Whenever I want," he said honestly. Bart didn't have a curfew for him, even after getting expelled. He knew his son well enough to know that even if one was set he'd still get out if he wanted, and having to come up with a way to punish him would be exhaustive on both of them when everything he could take away would just be supplied anyway. So long as Chuck was discrete in his antics, he reserved the harshest punishment of disapproving glares and solemn words of disappointment for when Chuck really messed up. Besides, once news of this got out, anything he could possibly be doing, anything he'd ever actually done would pale in comparison. Her doe eyes were large when she made her request and even if he wanted to say no, for whatever reason, he would have been buckling under the sincerity of them. He sighed heavily as if it was an inconvenience, but inwardly his mind was made up.

"Good." Blair stated firmly when he answered her question about curfew, all kinds of thoughts roaming around in her mind. She was glad that they weren't average teenagers, and that on the Upper East Side, they were more or less isolated from their parents and from any types of authority. Along with bottomless bank accounts, they might as well have been adults living on their own. Blair was aware that Dorota was blind to having Chuck over, deaf to the sounds they made, and never, ever thought to go upstairs when he was in her bedroom. Least of all would she spill a word to anyone, because her job was…extremely pivotal to her well-being, and any breach of security of her mistress would have been the end to her career, no matter how long she'd been working there. Blair slipped her hand under his high school blazer and gently grazed it up to his shoulder.

"Stay with me," she requested quietly, "Until you have to leave," she gave him a pointed look then, "please?" Like he could say no, even if he wanted to. She'd milk him for all he was worth both in bed, and as her…boyfriend, because she could. Because he was Chuck Bass and she was Blair Waldorf, and somehow they'd found their way to each other, if only just temporarily.

"I don't know," he started, kissing her shortly, "it depends on how many more times I can get you to say please." He smirked wickedly as he teased her before pulling her in for another kiss."

"If I remember correctly," she began slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief, her hand letting go of his and reaching up to trail a finger along his chest playfully, "_You _were the one saying please the last time we were together. Over, and _over_…" She smiled into his kiss, and then reeled him in for another one, congratulating herself for her witty (and true) retort. Her lips then slightly veered off, and she kissed his jaw, then down to the top of his neck, inhaling deeply the scent that was purely Chuck, though mingled with his earlier hash break. Her nose gently trailed along his skin as her lips made their way back to his, and she was kissing him again, only this time slightly deeper, her tongue swiping along his bottom lip and dipping into his mouth, trying to just get more of him.

Chuck's gaze was humorless as he met hers when she reminded him of the last time they'd been together. She was right, he had been saying it, over and over and over again. In other words, he was completely removed from who Chuck Bass usually was in bed. _He_ wasn't the one who did the begging. He got what he wanted when he wanted it, and the only time there was any begging was when he decided to delay the gratification of whoever it was he'd gotten into bed that night. Blair, though, had managed to unravel that rule with a snap of her fingers. It was only because he actually wanted her to enjoy her time with him, he thought sullenly. If he weren't concerned with not pushing her too far, he'd push to get what he wanted, but instead he had to _ask_ her to _please, Blair, more_ each time rather than get what he needed from her himself. It was the _only_ reason, he repeated to himself so that he might retain some measure of pride.

"Maybe," he muttered, "but I promise you won't even be able to count how many times you've said it when I'm done with you."

The words were deep and they reverberated in his throat in a predatory way, and when she finally kissed his mouth again his hand pushed up into her hair and wove through the tresses before closing into a fist and pulling (not too hard, but firm enough so he could get her head to tip back) so that his angle might be better to explore her mouth. Everything was so soft, and warm, innocent but not quite - he'd let her crawl in under his skin if there were a way to do it, and he wouldn't complain, not even once. He could feel his blood simmering and the tan slacks that he wore for school were starting to grow uncomfortably tight in the front. It had been a week, a whole week - not without sex, technically, but a whole week without sex from her. He'd gone longer, of course, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it when he was in Monaco and she was, to his knowledge, trouncing around with Nate. It had been a whole week during which they were both in the same city and hadn't come near each other not once. Outrageous, he decided, grunting into the cavern of her mouth as his tongue swept across hers. His breathing was harsh when he finally broke it and his newly freed hand crept up the side of her skirt.

"I want you," he whispered the words almost savagely in her ear, "I want you, Blair." His finger traced patterns around her thigh, teasing her skin through her stockings. "Let me have you," he whispered, kissing a spot just under her ear, "Let me hear you moan for me." His hand skipped up over her skirt then, ghosted over her stomach momentarily, before it was brushing over the soft roundness of her breasts, and he smirked lightly. "Now I know why I thought these felt bigger," he chuckled quietly as he cupped one through her shirt, savoring the weight in his palm.

His eyes seemed darker, something she'd noticed happened whenever he got turned on. Blair nodded with his words, yes, she wanted him. And god, _yes_, he could have her! She felt a familiar wetness beginning to pool in her lacy La Perlas, just from his words and simple touch.

"Chuck," she breathed, almost helplessly when he felt his hand slipping under her skirt, moving dangerously close to where she needed him, before his path was re-routed and his hand was cupping her breast. That seemed to trigger something in her, before she was quickly reaching forward to undo the buttons of his shirt.

There was only one thing he knew in that moment: they both had too many clothes on, and they needed to come off. _Now._ He was thrilled to find she seemed to be of the same mind when she started to pluck at the buttons on his shirt to shed him of the nuisance. Just like that his own fingers were pulling at the buttons of her blouse, and he found himself not caring if he loosened a few too many buttons from their threads. Dorota could fix it, hell he'd pay for another, so long as he got the damn shirt _off of her_. His hand untangled from her hair in order to make the process go faster, and he was rewarded with the sight of her breasts, full and heaving inside of the lacy material of her bra. A bra he was certain that matched the panties that were hidden under the skirt that he was suddenly even more eager to get off. He finished the job with the buttons and pulled the shirt out from her skirt before unwinding his arms from around her and pulling his blazer off and tossing it to the floor with a heavy sound. His erection was aching in his pants, and his hips thrust forward lightly against her when her hand skated down his body to unfasten his slacks, already seeking some form of release and pressure from her. His fingers, thick and feeling oddly clumsy, went for her skirt, eager to see the material off of her, however hot it could sometimes be in fueling his schoolboy fantasies.

He only paused slightly when he realized she'd stopped her pursuit for his undress, and then her order fully sank in with him and his eyes lifted to hers, arousal bubbling through him.

"No condom," she whispered. All of a sudden her eagerness was restored and she was backing him up towards her bed.

There wasn't any point for one - she was already pregnant, what else could happen? His eyes gleamed with heated, lustful approval and his desire only increased tenfold. No condom, just her, wet and tight, and him, buried to the hilt inside of her. Maybe he'd felt it before, maybe he hadn't (would he really have forgotten such sensations if he had? Not on purpose, at least) but what mattered was that he was going to get to experience it now, sober, and he'd remember it in all its exquisite detail.

"No condom," he agreed, the words gruff, and he was moving backwards then until he felt the back of his knees hit her bed. He sat down then and pulled her between his legs, zeroing in on her skirt once more. He undid it quickly and let it drop to the floor, and then it was her stockings that he was doing away with until she was only in front of him in the shirt she had yet to shrug off, the bra that concealed one of his favorite places on her (although he'd be hard-pressed to find a spot that wasn't a favorite), and the lacy La Perlas that….

"Wet," he remarked, a trace of adoration in the single word as he stroked the damp spot with the slightest pressure. "Soaked for me." His ego had never been larger. "It turns you on, doesn't it?" He murmured, still touching her through her underwear. "It turns you on knowing how much I want you," he leaned in and pressed a lazy kiss to her ribcage, "how hard you make me." His finger slid until he felt a slight change in the terrain beneath the lace and he barely withheld a grin as he pressed in on her clit and circled it. As he did so, though, he held tightly to her with his other arm, supporting her in case she became too unsteady.

"_Oh…Chuck_," she moaned quietly, her hips gently pushing down against his hand and searching for more—friction, heat, _anything._ She was at a loss for words. Her teenage sex drive was only amplified now with her pregnancy hormones. She was just..._so horny_, and Chuck was the only one she wanted to get her off.

She swallowed thickly and licked her lips, nodding at his words, "Yes," she hissed, her eyes rolling into the back of her head while she fought to stand. She'd been reduced to a pile of mushy limbs and breathy moans, and he hadn't even really touched her yet. "Chuck," she breathed, her hooded eyes opening to stare at him, her voice borderline on a whine, "I need you," she pushed his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, "_Now_." She wanted to know what it was like, was dying to know how it'd feel with him buried deep inside of her. No barriers. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought they'd traveled this road before, must have, but she…she couldn't quite get a grip on when or where or really how it felt. She just knew that she wanted him inside of her as soon as possible, and she was _more_ than ready for him.

"You're _hot_," he informed her with a groan as he looked up at her with fiery eyes, "You're fucking incredible." The words were rough but he was gentle as he nuzzled the softness of her breast and he exhaled a deep sigh of contentment as he flicked at her nipple through the lace of her bra. All for the sake of driving her insane, so that when he finally touched her without anything between them, she'd becoming undone in seconds.

Chuck briefly released his hold on her when she began to push insistently at his shirt so that she might remove it from him completely, and at her command he was hooking his hand behind her knee and tugging so she toppled (towards him, of course). No sooner had that happened then he was rolling them so she was pinned between him and her comforter and he was trailing kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, the top of her chest….

"I like these," he informed her bluntly without even looking up as he reached her breasts. His hand slid behind her back and in the next instant the clasp was undone and he was pulling the lacy contraption away. "I really…." Whatever it was he was going to say he clearly decided it wasn't important enough as he pressed a wet, open mouthed kiss to the underside of one of her breasts. He was on his way then, down her stomach, abdomen, and then he was pulling the underwear off with urgency and making quick work of the job she'd started on him until his pants joined all of their other clothes on the floor. He latched onto her hip then and sucked lightly, determined to leave a mark because… because she was his now, and he'd damn well leave proof of it if he felt like it. Any inclination he had to draw this out, however, was wearing thin, and he moved his way up her body, breathing heavily.

"Tell me if," he swallowed thickly as he hitched her one leg up around his waist, "Tell me if it's too much, or…." He had no idea if this would work any differently now that she was pregnant. Yes, they'd been together a week ago when she was, but… he hadn't known then, so it was different now. Chuck placed a searing kiss upon her mouth then as his head found her entrance, and then he was bearing down on her. White hot bliss exploded inside of him, and his mouth opened against hers in a harsh sound as his rigid manhood was taken inside of her, _bare_. His mind dissolved into swears and his smooth motion came to a short stop when he pushed forward roughly, out of his own mind.

"Chuck!" she shouted, ecstasy riddling her features, her already tight walls closing in around him. "You're so…" she swallowed, "So good," she muttered, kissing him again, roughly, her teeth gently tugging on his bottom lip while her heel dug into his back. She wasn't sure what had come over her, but at the moment, she didn't care, as long as he didn't stop these…wonderful fucking sensations that were coursing through her. It could never be too much, never with him, it was always just enough and more.

Was she supposed to feel this way? She had the smoothest, silkiest fit around him that he'd ever felt, and this time she was _wet_ on top of it all. He'd wondered often as his fingers had explored her depths what she would feel like squeezing down around him, but imagining it had clearly fallen far short of the reality. Everything moved smoother, to the point where he almost didn't have control over how his hips moved against her. And one of the best parts was…. A trembling smirk washed over his mouth for a moment when she shouted his name before it was gone, dissolved into the kiss she was giving him. His fingertips dug into her thigh as she pressed into his back and he pushed forward a little more. The best part was that it seemed to be bringing out a wilder, more active side of Blair, one that wasn't afraid to leave him with a few wounds in the process.

He inhaled as he withdrew and then he was surging forward again, a heavy grunt flying forth from his lungs.

"Fuck!" He hissed. "You're fucking… tight." He could come right now if he didn't have his dignity. "So fucking…" He found her mouth and gave her a kiss, his tongue thrusting into her mouth in time with his thrusting length.

There were only three things that Blair was sure about in these moments: she was going to have one of the best orgasms of her short sex life, Chuck Bass was _hot_, and they were never going to use a condom again.

Period.

It was a completely different experience when his bare length drove into her over and over. It was a sensation that she was sure not to forget, and would just be increasing her need for him every time she saw him from now on, she concluded. She doubted that he'd mind, after all, it was Chuck, and he had no problem delivering satisfaction whenever it was demanded of him. People who called him a pig (of which she was guilty), only did so because they'd never actually experienced him in bed, and Blair had become very aware of the fact that he put her needs before his.

Blair fought to keep her eyes open to watch him, her nails gently biting into the planes of his shoulders her heel pushing him impossibly closer. He'd been fully seated inside of her, before he was pulling back almost all the way and…Blair moaned in approval when he thrust forcefully back inside of her, her hips rolling up against his in time with his off-rhythm thrusts.

She'd never admit it, but when he egged her on with blunt words, it just turned her on even more. She was, of course, not very comfortable using those words, but she always gave it her best. That, and the fact that forming words when he was fucking her wasn't exactly the _easiest_ task.

"Tell me," he choked out once he had to break it, "tell me how good it feels." He wanted to hear her say the words, wanted to hear her say how much she needed him, wanted him. Wanted to her her beg, plead for more, much like he had the last time they were together. Fair was fair, he decided.

"So…" she fought to find words, but only the basest ones came to mind, "So good," she grunted in a very unladylike manner, hips bucking against him, "You're _so big_, Chuck," she complimented, hoping that's what he was searching for. He could be a Basstard if he didn't get when he wanted. Her walls tightened around him when he forcefully pushed into her, and she gasped with the force of it, white hot pleasure bursting through her as she threatened to explode around him.

"Do you want it…" He gave a forceful thrust, "harder?" There was a trace of a chuckle in the word, "Or maybe…." He pulled back at a ridiculously slow rate then, one that tortured him, too. "maybe I should go slower," he murmured, pressing a kiss into the hollow of her throat, "What do you want, Blair?" he said, voice wound tightly, "You have to tell me what you want if you want to get it." He inhaled sharply. "You have to _ask_ me for it." Then his teeth were closing down on her collarbone with the mission of leaving a bite mark there for his own satisfaction and arousal.

"_Harder_," she requested immediately.

_Magic word, Waldorf_, he thought to himself, and then she was on it, asking him for it.

"Please Chuck," she begged, writhing under him, trying to get what she wanted, trying to reach her ultimate goal.

He was slamming into her then, and he was only vaguely aware of the slight thud of her headboard against the wall - briefly he wondered if he should grab hold to control the sound, but that would involve moving away from her, and he was rather enjoying the feeling of their skin pressed so tightly together.

"Jesus, Blair," he muttered, kissing and nipping along her neck. "You feel so fucking perfect." The head of him pushed firmly against… against what felt like that spot that always had her shaking, and he angled himself so he could thrust against it again, and again, and he lifted his forehead from its place against her neck to watch her face and try to pick up on any cues she might give him.

Blair groaned with gratitude, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and her eyebrows knitting together in concentration. She was so close…so close…all she needed was…her eyes flew open in surprise when the tip of his length began rubbing against the part of her that made her melt, her lips parted in a silent cry of pleasure.

One breathless bark of smug laughter left him when surprised engulfed her features and she was lost in a muted cry. Bingo - he'd found exactly what he needed to, and now all he had to do was watch her unwind faster than a spool of thread.

"C'mon," he muttered under his breath, swallowing tightly as he continued his hard, punctuating thrusts, "C'mon, B-blair." He stuttered over her name a bit because before he could so much as blink she was seizing under him and she was close, closer than close, and his name was echoing repeatedly through the room in the most delicious tones of lusty praise. His teeth gnashed together when he felt her nails on his shoulder and a sour grimace flashed over his features as he was caught in a strange mix of pleasurable pain and painful pleasure.

His head dipped low then and his tongue was out, licking at the dark red bite mark he'd bestowed upon her minutes ago - fair was fair, he supposed. She'd sport her own wounds from this intense reunion, so if he had to sport the claw marks that told everyone he'd bedded her, then so be it. The sensation of her tight channel pulsing and squeezing around him, accompanied by the strong rush of wetness as she came around him, though…. He snapped.

She felt so damn good, so slick, and hot, and wonderfully wet around his thick, rigid length. His vision swam before him and his eyes closed tightly as he began to jerk forward at a faster pace, stroking himself to completion inside of her.

"Yes… _yes_, Blair!" He said the words tightly. A choked, wordless exclamation left him and then he felt his body stiffening as he sank into her with a final thrust, and then he was coming and his whole body was wracked with heat. He was coming _inside_ of her, sending hot spurts of his seed deep within her in a way that was much too satisfying to that Neanderthalic part of him. It was only when he heard her speak that he belatedly realized that his strength had given out and he was on top of her, pinning her to the mattress and exhaling in quick, jagged breaths against her shoulder.

"_That_…" she breathed (more like panted), "That was incredible."

It took every bit of him to heave himself off her and fall to the side (couldn't crush her, couldn't crush the baby), but he was greedily grabbing for her in the next second.

"_You_ are," he kissed her in a way that was far too intense for how much breath they were lacking, pulling away seconds later, "Blair, that was…." He didn't seem to have any words to explain it.

So, instead, "You're… you're alright?" He questioned, breathing starting to slow even while his heart hammered in his chest.

She heaved a contented sigh, a smile worming its way across her features, "I'm fine," she responded immediately, "More than fine."

"I mean with…."

"With what?" she asked, brain wracking to try and figure out what he meant by that.

She supposed he could be asking about her post coital haze, but it seemed too much of an obvious subject to even ask about. He could be referring to the fact that she was still fairly virginal, and she'd been practically pounded into the mattress like a well-rounded lover. Or the fact that she was pregnant with his child (most likely), and it was a relatively new subject matter that was slightly traumatic in several different ways, and then…then there was their relationship. Their forbidden, newly developed relationship, which was still slightly confusing to Blair.

"What…" she frowned, "What are we, Chuck?"

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**A/N: First, props to B (C here, cause A/Ns are about all I'm good at) for editing this entire chapter. By herself. Of her own initiative (thereby clearing me of any resentment B feels towards me). Second, let us know what you think with a review! We'd love to hear your reaction and guesses about what comes next. And last, but not least...a huge huge thanks and love and appreciation go out to MissCMorland, Dr. Holland, and aramxo for being so supportive! (And tweeting us to remind us to get our asses back to editing and posting). xD**

**THANK YOU GUYS!  
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**Also, big thanks to everyone who is reviewing, we appreciate hearing what you have to say!  
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**AND HAPPY GG DAY TO ALL!  
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**xoxo  
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**-B&C  
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	5. Resolve

**A/N: Yoohoo! We're trying really hard to get these chapters edited for you guys. You've all been so wonderful and very patient that we want to get them out as fast as possible. We apologize for the long break between the updates. Between school and personal life it's been a pain! However, here it is, and know that chapter 6 is coming SOON. Like, actually. So, we hope you enjoy this chapter!  
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It was a serious question, and she'd wanted to know for awhile now.

She wanted to know when she visited him last week, and she wanted to know now.

It was obvious that they were more than friends, and thanks to the day's events and promises made, they were more than fuck buddies.

"Are you my boyfriend?" she asked, slightly scared for the answer, and also afraid that he'd make any excuse possible to get out and ignore the topic altogether. Whatever they did have, however, would still have to be kept secret, because if somebody found out…hell would break loose. It scared Blair, because she knew that it would have to come out eventually, they couldn't hide their relationship, and they couldn't hide the baby forever. One day she'd get big enough, or they wouldn't be careful enough and everyone including Nate would know. She dreaded that day, but felt comforted to know that at least one person would stand by her side through it all—or so she assumed.

Chuck remained carefully impassive, hazel eyes set on her and only her, not giving away even one word of what he might be thinking. He could have been made of stone for all practical purposes.

"Blair," he protested with her name and shook his head once before stopping his automatic refusal. A habit, perhaps, but one that still reared its head strongly in reaction to the word boyfriend. It was one thing to promise to take care of her, to even commit, but to put that type of label on it still felt….

"Everyone will probably assume I am once they know." He said, as if that settled the matter. Even if they found it slightly incredulous to connect him with the word boyfriend and Blair with the word pregnant. Good thing they'd have months to get used to the idea, then (because in his mind, the idea of withholding the information until Blair got bigger hadn't even crossed his mind, not for long at least. Had the sex they just had and the bite he bestowed on her not proof enough that he was claiming her privately and publicly from hereon out?).

If possible, her frown deepened more, but she just agreed with what he was saying, "Yes, you're right. They probably will."

And this, right here, was why they'd never be a couple.

They'd have delusions of being together, dreams of maybe…just maybe raising this child, but to Blair it was becoming increasingly apparent that…it just wasn't going to happen. They were both so immature, so young. And…he wasn't Nate. She couldn't expect genuine emotions from Chuck except for anger and lust. She couldn't expect him to walk down the halls, holding her hand, or to take her out to dinner for their anniversary (they'd be lucky to have a one-day anniversary at the rate they were going).

"It's late," she stated slowly, removing her arm from him and reaching forward to pull her blue satin blanket over her, much to Chuck's horror. He probably didn't want to stay, Blair thought, but she wasn't going to kick him out. She wanted to test him.

"Goodnight," she whispered, before turning her back to him, and closing her eyes.

There was something about the tone of her voice that chilled him. It was removed, bordering on stiff, and it reminded him far too much of Cotillion, right before he'd run after her and found her in Nate's arms. When she pulled her satin blanket up over her naked form, she may as well have been walking away from him in a floor-length dress that he wasn't going to get to take off her. Whatever he'd said, it hadn't been enough, and he had the sharp vision of a Gossip Girl blast arriving at his phone declaring that Queen B was pregnant with her white prince's baby.

_Like Hell._

"Blair," he said, a minor strain to her name as he reached for her arm, "don't. Will you just-" he was frustrated now, "Will you just tell me what you need me to say and I'll say it?"

Blair rolled her eyes when he posed his question. Was he really that clueless?! Blair turned back over to face him, one hand keeping her blanket up over her breasts to conceal herself, since all of a sudden she was feeling very self conscious.

"I don't need you to _say_ anything, Chuck," she sighed, shaking her head lightly and looking down at the bedspread in between them, "I need you to…I need you to stop being afraid of commitment."

She swallowed thickly, trying to find the best way to say what she wanted, "You want to support me and…" the baby, "But you don't want to be my boyfriend?" She was frustrated, and could see the same emotions reflected in his eyes, "It's not that I want to put a label on whatever this is, but…do you want me? Do you want to go to events together and be with each other at school, or do you just want to…" she sighed again, "have sex." She was just so confused, she didn't understand what he wanted, because he said one thing, and then acted another way. He'd agreed to no call-girls, but…that's because he liked having sex with her, and since she wasn't seeing anyone else either, he'd have her all to himself.

Did he _want_ her? Of course he wanted her! He wouldn't be here right now, may not even have come back from Monaco, if he didn't want her. He wouldn't have said what he'd said when he found out she was pregnant if he didn't want her with everything in him and then some. He wanted her so badly that the thought of anyone else going near her was enough to send him into a blindly jealous rage. He'd never cared before if a girl slept with someone else, developed feelings for someone else, but with Blair the thought of her turning into that glowing person he'd seen in the weeks leading up to Cotillion at the hands of someone else… it made him want to be sick. He didn't want things for long-term time frames very often, but when he did he really wanted them. This wasn't just a random girl, the fresh pick on a first day of school, this was Blair. She made him feel… well, she made him feel. At all. He just didn't see what the big deal was about the _boyfriend _thing.

"You owe me an honest answer," Blair added, finally, "After…after what's happened these past two weeks." She was referring to the fact that not only had he forced her into telling the truth about her bulimia relapse, but the pregnancy. She deserved to know how he really, truly felt, and what he really, truly wanted.

It was just a word, but it seemed so weighted to him. Weighted with responsibility (like being a father wasn't?), weighted with…. With the possibility of failure. A highly probable chance of it, too. Failure of her, failure of their baby. If he kept that label off himself, he would be able to operate without that pressure of having to be a boyfriend. He didn't know how to be one, and wasn't it enough that he learn how to be committed first?

"I want you," he said the words slowly, a deafening sincerity spun through them, "The fact that I'm laying here right now and having this conversation should show you I _want_ you. It's not about the sex." That insinuation would have been insulting if it weren't completely called for. He was Chuck Bass, and in the past that would have been all he wanted a girl for, so it was a fair question (much as he loathed to admit it and to cede territory so early into the fight). "I want you. I want to take…" he paused, the promise still so unlike him (more proof, he decided, that he wanted her if he was willing to make it), "I want to take care of you. I want…."

He wanted so much of her, so much with her. But…

_"You don't want Nate to find out, and I don't want anyone to."_

The words, playful and coated in the heavy breathing of making-out, had cut him even then, even as he tried to play them off, and they still cut him now.

"Do_ you_?" he questioned with a piercing gaze. "Do you _really_ want me to be your boyfriend? In public, where everyone can see?" Bitterness was swept across the syllables, staining them with evidence of the betrayal he'd felt when he'd been so hopeful she might let him be good enough for her, only to end it all with a few words from her sinfully delicious lips.

Chuck had no idea how long he had to wait. Maybe a minute, maybe an hour. Whatever it was, it was agonizing, and every second of the time frame that elapsed he steeled himself for the negative answer that might come his way. She'd think about it, and then picture her friends' reactions. The circle that 'Queen B' made her own didn't approve of Chuck Bass in the way that some of the other girls might. They either found him repulsive as a general rule or because he'd bedded them once (and never again - his choice, of course).

Whether she liked them or not, their opinion of her mattered and helped keep her in power - one wrong move and she could be out like so many girls before her. And if it was his fault, he had very little faith that she wouldn't hesitate to turning on him and abandoning whatever they turned into. It was a sad situation, perhaps, but it was the truth. Maybe he mattered to Blair on some level. Maybe the fact that she was having his kid and hadn't hidden it from him (like he gave her a chance) indicated that he was important to her in a way that was bigger than just the way that they all mattered to each other. But how did he know that he mattered to her _more_ than her social status and position of power? On some level he knew he mattered to Bart, after all, and everyone knew how rock-solid their relationship was. Bart would gladly skip anything Chuck was involved with (not that he had been since about seven) in favor of another day, or week, in Tokyo business meetings. To put it simply, Chuck had no reason to believe that even if he mattered to someone that he would matter _the most_.

Blair looked at him, then, and with conviction stated, "Yes," she paused for a moment before continuing, allowing the one word answer to sink in, "People would be confused at first, but…they'd come to accept it," she scoffed then, "It's not like they have a choice."

It was true - she was Queen, and whatever she said her minions had to follow. If it meant them having to accept her and Chuck's relationship, as well as keep their eyes, hands, and thoughts nowhere near him…then that's what they'd have to do. She inhaled a breath then, though, and realized…he still hadn't answered her question.

_"You sound like a jealous boyfriend…yeah right, you wish…no, _you _wish." _

She decided not to say anything, however, and just looked at him, trying to read his expression, trying to…somehow pull an answer out of him…

Chuck's eyebrows rose instantly and he blinked, a soft sound of surprise under his breath. His pupils narrowed and he peered at her closely, but he wasn't entirely sure his shock wasn't clouding his normally foolproof lie-detector that he had built in for her. She didn't look like she was lying, but he wasn't sure she looked content or any other positive emotion about it either. Maybe she was, he just couldn't tell (which was strange in and of itself). People would be confused - they were the last two people anyone would have thought should be thrown together, but somehow the chemistry between them was absolutely explosive. And then add the fact that they had actually somehow managed to procreate….

There was no end to the buzz and confusion that would circulate when they told people the truth. Being that he had nothing to go on but her word, however, he had to take it. She would want him. She'd want him to be her boyfriend, in public. She'd want him in public at all. It was something he'd wanted since that night in the limo, something he'd wanted despite himself, something she hadn't allowed him until this point.

"It doesn't matter if I'm your _boyfriend_," he said sullenly, "I want you anyway. But…." He swallowed. "If that's what you need, then…." He paused for another moment before nodding his consent.

She didn't need him to be her boyfriend, but…what was the point of being together without a title? How was she supposed to regard him?

_"Hi, this is Chuck, my baby daddy." _

She nearly rolled her eyes at the thought, slightly shuddering. She had a feeling that he needed closure, which meant that she needed to take a paternity test. And if she did that, no doubt her mother would be informed, which would just create…more chaos. Eleanor would no doubt find out eventually, but…Blair just wanted to pretend that day wouldn't happen. She'd deal with it when it did. When he nodded in his consent, she decided not to press him further and instead just accept his less than enthusiastic answer. If he didn't want to be labeled as her boyfriend, he should have said so.

"Okay," she responded, barely above a murmur, before settling back into her bedspread.

Knowing that he had made her unhappy (or at least failed to make her happy, even if he hadn't caused her to sink into complete unhappiness yet) only made Chuck sulkier, because that was never the goal. He wanted her happy, he wanted that glowing Blair from before the disaster at Cotillion. He had done that to her and it had felt good. He'd never made anyone feel that way before, to his knowledge, and it had inspired a certain lightness within himself. It made him feel like he could do something right apart from sex, and it made him want to keep doing it, over and over again. All he seemed to do now (at least within the last few minutes) was to make her do anything but glow - even the sex glow seemed to be wearing off the more they pushed and pulled with their different arguments.

And that's what he was afraid of - he was damn worried that just continue down this path until she hated him, truly and fully in a way she never had before.

_I can't be your boyfriend because I can't be a bad one if I'm not one at all. You can't break up with me if we're not labeled as a couple. You can't tell me we're finished when I do one too many things wrong if we never even started. You can't walk away from me again if there's nothing to walk away from. You can't hate me. I can't mess up something that doesn't exist - it's bad enough there's a kid that doesn't stand a chance with me, but I still want to try._

He wanted to just tell her all of it, to let someone, _anyone_ know, but especially her. She deserved it, and deserved a chance to back out if she wanted to. She needed to be fully aware of just what she was getting with him, and needed the chance to… to save herself if necessary. But the problem was Chuck had never been very good with sharing his genuine emotions, always too afraid whoever he was trying to share them with would be unreceptive (before Blair, Bart was the usual suspect).

The words were on the tip of his tongue, and yet he couldn't get them to make the plummet into open air so she could hear them. So, he was trapped in limbo, frustrated with himself, concerned for their joint future, and…. And filled with the smallest bit of _joy_ that had sprung up inside of him. He had her for real now, regardless of what labels they did or didn't agree on. They'd be stepping out together from this point on, and there was no more fixing his clothes before someone walked in on them and caring if they suspected something. He could kiss her if he felt like it, wherever he felt like it, whenever he felt like it (and he always felt like it).

Blair interrupted his thoughts, turning her head to look at him, "I'll see you tomorrow, then…" she began, voice cautious, "Unless…you want to stay?" She wasn't sure why she was feeling so awkward…but she assumed it was because the only conversation she was used to having with Chuck was either witty banter, or seductive foreplay. There was the occasional fighting, but never…never really any small talk, after all, what was she supposed to talk about with him? The weather, school, their interests…it just didn't feel right. She felt like she already knew everything about him, and he knew everything about her…and the only person she'd even been in a relationship with was Nate, and he'd never been committed. They'd just have to get used to it, she decided, because she wasn't willing to give up on whatever it was they had.

He adjusted his body so he could lean in and kiss her firmly, once, twice, and a third time. "Trying to get rid of me, Waldorf?" He asked by way of responding to the first part of her question, smirk on his mouth and only a little sincere curiosity in his otherwise light murmur.

Just like that the spark in between them seemed to re-ignite. He may have responded in a sullen manner to her previous questioning, but his reaction to her most recent question had her grinning and immediately winding her body around him.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Bass," she responded in a sassy tone, kissing him back with equal fervor while her dainty fingers tangled in his hair. Though her blue satin blanket created a barrier between their bodies, she could still feel him—their bodies melded together in a way that hers and Nate's never had. He'd always been too slender, too muscular, however Chuck was…perfect. She couldn't find a flaw, even if she tried.

"Is it even an option?" He nuzzled her neck lightly (and marveled at how _soft_ she was, and warm, too), wondering if she was even serious or if she'd just… said it.

"Well, Eleanor is still in Paris," she explained, returning his playful smirk, one of her hands gently sliding down his bare back, "And Dorota won't say or do anything, if she knows what's good for her…" Blair hardly needed to state that—the headboard had been smacking against her wall with an impressive force not moments ago, if Dorota had wanted to intervene, that would have already happened.

Chuck threw his arm across her and pulled her close (cursing the blanket between them), concentrated relief sweeping through him from her favorable reaction. She was smiling, the real kind where there was a shine in her eyes and a dimple in her cheek, not the fake kind she reserved for the public or for her minions. From his spot against her neck, he was free to place short, teasing kisses along the column, down to her collarbone, and back up to her ear. Eleanor in Paris certainly fixed a great many problems as he doubted that she would appreciate seeing Chuck Bass in bed with her daughter.

"_It's fine, Ms. Waldorf, she's already pregnant and it can't happen twice."_

He didn't think that would be comforting, either, and Bart would probably be arranging for a funeral the minute he said it.

Blair slightly leaned up so she could kiss him again, taking her time and softly exploring his mouth, all because she _could_. She was eager to find out where this path would take them, eager to get to know Chuck in this newly discovered light. It was apparent that they'd fight, but she had a feeling they'd learn to get along. For instance, she knew that lying to Chuck was practically impossible and nothing but a waste of time, he always seemed to get an answer out of her. And she'd figured out that he was practically always turned on (something she liked to think was just because of her, and her subtle seduction techniques).

A sound of enjoyment echoed in his throat and one of his hand pushed through her hair to cradle her head. He sucked her bottom lip lightly into his mouth before his tongue was begging further entrance.

"You'd have to leave early so you could get to the Palace for a shower and fresh change of clothes," she concluded, softly. It might be a pain, but she considered in an option. In the future he'd have to come prepared, or vice versa.

"Bart," he said, breathing deeply when they finally parted, "won't be looking for me. Lily will have something for him to do with the wedding," he said idly, unaware if he'd even mentioned this small factoid to her. It wasn't like they'd had the chance for catching up ever since he got back - it had been one punch of information after the next.

Her brows slightly knit in confusion when she brought up Bart and Lily—she'd heard that they'd been dating from Serena…and may have slightly recalled something about an engagement, but a wedding so soon? She supposed Lily would be good for him, Bart had always seemed a little…rough around the edges, and Lily was just about the polar opposite of that (much like Serena).

He kissed her again before he was trailing them across her jawline and back down her neck. "I'll shower here," he murmured stubbornly, "we could even save water." There was a suggestive lilt in his voice and the idea actually was very appealing. "Have Arthur bring me my clothes." He knew this may not work out the way he'd envisioned, but as it stood he wasn't about to give up anymore time with her than he had to. And, as of right now, his alternative was still very possible.

A smirk curled onto her features and she chuckled softly, "I am all for supporting the preservation of water, but I have a feeling more water would be wasted than normal if we showered here…"

Chuck grinned down at her, a wicked expression hidden in his hazel eyes. "I can't imagine why," he said, feigning curiosity, "is there something special you like to do in your showers that would make it take longer?" The words were cheeky and he wasn't the least bit apologetic for them. "Maybe I should show you the _right_ way to shower." He kissed her swiftly. "I promise you'll like it _very _much," kiss, "and you'll wonder," kiss, "why," kiss, and a longer one, "you haven't showered that way before."

Blair laughed—a pure, genuine laugh (which had been otherwise absent over the past week which had practically devastated her). "Mm, well, I'm sure I'm not the only one who will enjoy it," she commented lightly, her hand slowly moving down to his neck, her fingertips drawing patterns in his skin.

"So it's settled then," she murmured.

Chuck paused momentarily after she made it final before nodding his agreement. He, Chuck Bass, was spending the night with a girl, all night, in her bed.

This broke about a thousand of his usual rules.

But here he was, essentially settling in to do it, in someone else's bed, by his own free will. He was really… really into her if he was willing to do this, he realized. Whatever butterflies he'd had were long gone and replaced by something… else.

Bigger.

"It's settled." He agreed.

Blair's nails gently trailed against his scalp as she kissed him on the mouth, then began peppering kisses along his jaw, tongue darting out to playfully swipe at his skin. She curled her leg over his hip, pulling him closer and savoring his warmth. She…she honestly never expected that she'd ever be here like this with Chuck, but for some reason, she couldn't stop the little voice in her head that was telling her it was right, and it sure as hell felt right to her. Blair was one for following her instincts (which, she congratulated herself on them usually being correct), and this was no different.

"I'll call Arthur," he murmured, pressing a kiss of his own to her jaw, "later." He added distractedly as his hand pulled itself free from her hair and trailed down the side of her body, searching for… He felt a silky soft material under the tips of his fingers and he tried to subtly and deftly inch the blanket down from its place across her body. Blair smirked, slightly moving to accommodate the removal of the fabric.

"I'm not sleeping on top of the blankets the whole night, Waldorf." Mind, he wasn't actually sure how much sleeping he would be doing at all, but that was another point that he wasn't going to be making right now, and that probably went without saying.

"I'm not planning on sleeping on top of any blankets either…I like to sleep under them," she drawled smartly, her fingers ghosting over the slightly raised skin on his shoulder blades that she'd left their just minutes ago.

Chuck gave a firm tug on the blanket, then, and many inches of skin were exposed for his perusal. "Better," he spoke softly, admiring her.

"My, my…you're insatiable, aren't you Bass?" the question was more of a statement, she knew that he was just as insatiable as she was, which she accredited to not only their teenage hormones, but their explosive chemistry that made both of them crazy for one another. She felt her skin heat up under his heavy gaze, a subtle red flush making its way across her skin. She wasn't used to…being looked at like that, like she was wanted, like she was desirable. It made her feel incredibly wanton and sexy (whereas she was used to being nothing but the cold frigid bitch that everyone at school saw her as).

"I have no idea what you're referring to," he said breezily when she commented on his rather voracious appetite. It wasn't his fault that she was simply so addictive and hard to put down.

Chuck pulled the covering lower, past her stomach. His knuckles dragged against her and he stopped for a bit as she inhaled a deep breath and slightly shuddered. It was still hard to believe there was a baby inside of her. A baby that was his. A baby that he _hoped_ was his… his over Nate's.

"What if it's his?" He hated the question and the words were stiff… full of trepidation. He couldn't lose her, not to this. She seemed so positive it had to be his, but….

The quality of Blair was similar to that of the finest scotch, except better. Scotch couldn't keep a man company at night - it could warm him, but not in a way that was nearly as pleasant as the soft heat that radiated from her bare body against his. Scotch couldn't touch him in a way that made him want to shiver despite himself (he never reacted that way, ever). The bottle wouldn't flush from some secret pleasure at being violated from a pair of eyes that shamelessly wandered over its figure.

And if it did, that was probably a signal that he'd really had too much and it was time to get help.

Scotch couldn't do that, and even if he had other women, none of them would do the right things, say the right things, none of them were her. So even the _thought_ of the child inside of her belonging to his best friend and not himself, after she'd said she wanted to _be_ with him, publicly… it was one of the most paralyzing thoughts he'd ever had. It was one thing before they decided that he would be with her through this and that this was something they'd do _together_. It had just been a gnawing, nausea-inducing feeling of having to watch her grow bigger with someone else's kid when he wanted her so badly. Having her, though, and watching that happen anyway… maybe in the future he'd be stronger, but his sixteen-year-old self couldn't handle that. He was too jealous, too hurt by the prospect.

And what if she didn't want him if it wasn't his? What if she wanted her fairytale, with the nuclear family that neither of them had anymore? What if she was pressured into it by everyone they knew and then some…. Yet another reason why labeling their relationship was nerve wracking for him. He didn't want the demotion, he supposed.

"I…" she began slowly, brain wracking the possibility that it could be Nate's. She supposed it could be, but…she just knew somewhere deep down that it wasn't, "I don't know," she said honestly, "He'd deserve to know it's his."

He swallowed tightly when she said she didn't know, a dreadful feeling sinking into his stomach as he began to imagine all of the possible scenarios she might spit out next to try to justify leaving him.

Nate would be the father, and even though she wanted to be with Chuck, she couldn't not be with the father of her child, and besides, it had been Nate all along.

Natenatenatenatenate.

"He would." Chuck agreed, a hint of defeat tainting his voice and his eyes stared at the still smooth plane of her stomach, like he could see the tiny thing inside of her. He couldn't deny his best friend the right to know the kid was his if it came down to that - he wouldn't want that to happen if the situations were reversed.

The hand of Blair's that had previously been on his neck let go, and she reached down to thread her fingers with his. Chuck squeezed down on her hand slightly, as if assuring himself she was there, real, and with him. He inhaled slowly, deeply, nostrils flaring when she continued and he finally lifted his eyes to hers again.

"But that wouldn't change _this_," Blair said, "I wouldn't want him…I _don't_ want him…not anymore."

He was silent before nodding simply. It wasn't 'okay', because… well, it wouldn't be okay if it were Nate's. But she seemed confident in wanting him still, and he'd take that answer and not give her a chance to second-guess it, and it was with that that he bent his head for another kiss, a firm, deep, soul-searching one. He knew he'd been greedy for her plenty in the short time they'd been privy to touching each other, but right in this moment he felt greedier. Like he wanted to absorb her into his very being and imprint her upon his soul.

It was the big thoughts like that that unnerved him, but they were still there regardless. It was big thoughts like these that drove him to kiss her the way he was kissing her, like… like she was his air. A notion that he'd scoff at if he were in his right mind and unclouded by her presence, because obviously he needed _real _air to function and live, but it was a notion that seemed entirely plausible to him in this state right now.

With their hands now separated Chuck slid his from her stomach to around her back in order to get her body closer to his. Not even for sex, just to feel that warmth radiate off her and soak into him.

It was soon apparent, however, that the notion he had about her being his air was dead wrong, because there was a tightness in his chest that didn't relate to any extreme emotion she was making him feel. It was him literally being deprived of oxygen.

When they broke for air, Blair inhaled deeply, practically panting from the intensity of the kiss, and his own breathing was rough and jagged while he tried to pull himself under control. His thumb stroked along her soft skin in a gentle pattern as he continued to hold her, even though their lips were no longer locked in such a fierce battle for possession. That was what that had been, he decided - a fight to see which of them could possess the other first and most completely.

"Chuck," Blair breathed softly, her lips gently brushing against his affectionately, "thank you." She kissed him again, though it was short, and she was pulling back seconds later for a breath before peppering kisses down his neck.

Her thanks had left him completely puzzled (although granted, he wasn't exactly in the headspace to even try to figure it out properly). He had no idea what she could possibly be thanking him for - the smart ass answer was she was thanking him for the sex, in which case he should really be thanking her, too. Regardless of how purely befuddled he was, though, he simply murmured, "You're welcome?"

It sounded more like a question than anything, but she was wonderfully naked and she was favoring him with the softest kisses down his neck, so in this moment he wasn't terribly concerned with what she was thanking him for.

She wasn't sure why she thanked him.

She supposed…she supposed that she was thanking him for caring, for being there when everyone else seemed busy or uninterested. She wasn't the only Upper East Sider with issues, and she was sure everyone had their fair share to deal with (including Chuck), but he had come to her, to help her, not once, but twice. He'd gotten expelled for her, for what? He had no idea what would happen, that she'd be pregnant, that she'd want him. Even as they lay here in her bed, naked, making out…she got the feeling that he almost didn't fully believe that she wanted him (whereas Nate expected her to be his). Chuck was…the least selfish person she'd met, and yet everyone thought he was no good.

Outrageous.

"You're mine," she purred affectionately against his skin, playfully nipping at his neck-if he was going to be her boyfriend, she was going to enjoy all the perks.

He inhaled a slow, deep, shaky breath when she said those words. Two simple words that were enough to nearly reduce him down to nothing. Because that was all he really wanted, wasn't it? To be hers. His whole life he'd watched her covet Nate, get upset when Nate strayed, because _Nate_ was hers, and he thought he'd never see that end.

"And you," he said, voice gravelly and low, "are _mine_." The tone dared her, dared anyone, to try to contradict him.

She thought it was clear, she was his, he was hers, no ifs ands or buts. Blair pulled back to look at him, an expression of adoration and understanding staining her features. He'd never had anyone, not like this, ever before. It was…his first real relationship.

She smiled, gently tilting his head down for a soft, quick kiss, "Let's go to sleep," she murmured softly, a smirk slowly making its way onto her features, "We're going to have to get up _extra_ early if we want to make it to school on time." The innuendo was clear, after all, he'd promised her a shower, and so she was going to get it…even if they didn't shower, she was thoroughly convinced that they'd take awhile to even get up out of bed.

He didn't care if it was just hormones making her this way, he'd gladly take the hormones and then some if it meant receiving the look he just did when he returned the sentiment she'd given him. Her face had been absolutely shining with the most breathtaking bliss he'd ever seen, and it made her look even that much more incredible to him than she usually did in his eyes. A feat, truly, by anyone's standards. It made his heart burst, just a bit (even though he'd deny it if anyone asked) to know that she was happy by his proclamation.

Maybe he was a romantic after all this time, he mused. But only ever with her - he couldn't be bothered wasting his sentiments on anyone else, nor did he want to spend them on any other. No one else, in his experience, had been worth it. He'd settle for nothing less than her wit, intelligence, scheming prowess, and sex appeal. Sex appeal, he was happy to say, that existed despite her efforts for the better part of the past two years to tamp it down to give off a virginal vibe that was somehow supposed to state her commitment to dear Nathaniel.

His arms were wrapped around her, and her naked body pressed against his was only a little distracting… maybe a lot distracting, he conceded as he rubbed her back lightly, marveling subconsciously at the silky smooth feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. This, he mused, was downright domestic of him. He'd never spent the night with a girl before, and now here he was, in her bed.

_Cuddling_.

He'd deemed himself allergic to this particular activity ages ago, but the only thing he wanted to do with her if he had to was pull her closer over push her away.

When, he wondered, had that conviction changed? Probably somewhere around the time when he decided that he'd be with a girl instead of run far away from her. Somewhere around the time he offered to take care of her and the baby that was most likely his instead of suggesting that it be taken care of for both their sakes. Somewhere around the time he made up his mind that Blair Waldorf was worth it.

He watched the shadows on her ceiling for some time, but eventually his eyes began to get heavy. The warmth and weight of her against his chest was lulling him to sleep, and he could feel the rise and fall of her breathing both against his chest and on his palm through her back. At one point he thought about asking her if she was asleep, but the words never came out, and for all he knew by that point he was already far gone, forgotten along with the fact that he was in someone else's bed with a girl in his arms and he was okay with that.

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**A/N: We hope you enjoyed this fluff-tastic chapter! We originally intended for there to be more here, but then we realized that... we suck. And we're very, very wordy. Even with chopping stuff out. So we're going to leave this as an isolated fluff chapter. Next chapter... well, let's wait to see what happens then, shall we?**

**A/N2: C takes full responsibility for the wretched amount of time it took to get this up. B was on me every other day to edit, but, well... you know, midterms made me their bitch. She's already working on chapter 6, though, and she's a much spiffier editor than I am, so fear not!**

**A/N3: Awwwww, isn't C such a sweetheart?! 3 I also just wanted to say thanks to everyone for reviewing and supporting us, even though we sometimes take a little (extremely long) break.**


	6. Insignificance

**A/N: Fun fact! If you're familiar with our other work (Dream a Little Dream to be specific), then you might be pleased to know that it's what comes prior to what you're about to read. Since we hadn't actually planned on putting this story up, we thought we'd just post it as a two-shot. So, if you'd like to know what happens before this...go check it out! (Chapter 1 only).**

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Blair Waldorf had highly underestimated the amount of self control it would take to get out of bed the next morning.

"Live on the wild side, Waldorf." Chuck mumbled the words against her throat. "Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to skip class? To be left outside when everyone else is slaving away at their work?" He tried to make the words as persuasive as possible, but in all the years he'd known her Blair had never bailed on a class unless she couldn't help it. The only thing that trumped class was setting up something for a scheme of hers. And… well, she probably would have to miss a deal of school once the baby came…. If not even a bit before hand. Perhaps a lot of school. He hadn't thought about it until now, but this was yet another way in which their lives would be spectacularly changed. For him missing school wasn't a big deal, in fact it was something he tried to do on a daily basis. For her, though, it would be the most she'd ever missed. What if it, the baby, made her fall behind? What if she couldn't graduate on time? What if she lost Yale not because of the pool party, but because of this?

"While that sounds…incredibly appealing, we can't. We have school today, and I have to go. My perfect attendance record will be ruined if I don't." Though she realized he couldn't give a damn about school, and her stupid record, she was proud of the fact that she was top of the class (next to Nelly Yuki, that is). "Anyways," she murmured softly, fingers slipping from his hair and tracing seductively down his neck, shoulders, and arms, before moving back up, "Didn't you promise me a shower?"

"Indeed I did," he murmured kissing her neck softly. "And you," he kissed a little higher along her neck, "definitely need one." He kissed under her ear before pulling back to look at her, a cheeky and suggestive grin on his face, hazel eyes gleaming with wit and adoration. "You're absolutely _filthy_."

"I'm only filthy because I spent a night in bed with Chuck Bass," the words rolled smoothly off her tongue. After a moment, however, the kissing stopped. He reeled back, affectionately brushing some of her brown hair from her forehead, the mood immediately changed.

He was struck by an intense, swelling bubble of emotion deep in his stomach. It was growing so big he didn't think he could stand it, and he had no idea what the emotion was. It was warm, and fuzzy, and the most genuinely happy feeling he'd ever felt. It wasn't that hazy, lazy happy that came with the high off a good joint. It wasn't the numb sense of indifferent happiness that scotch or any other alcohol brought to him, nor was it the jolting sense of insanity and loss of control happiness that hard drugs brought to him. It was just… happy. She made him happy, and he had no idea what to do with it, but he knew he wanted to keep it, keep her, for a good long while.

"Shower," he said the word quietly before reluctantly peeling himself away from her.

She frowned at the sudden rush of cold air that seemed to envelop her practically feverish body, but that was soon reversed as soon as she got a good look at Chuck standing there in all his naked glory. She smiled, before slipping out from under her soft pink comforter, and crossing the room (purposefully ignoring Chuck as she sauntered past him) to reach the bathroom door.

No one ever would have guessed that Blair Waldorf, Ice Queen, could look so exquisite underneath her clothes, it just didn't seem that someone as frigid as hers should have a body that… well, _hot_. Given that her body was so fantastic, it was rather unfair that they were confined by clothes out in the world. No one like her should ever have to wear clothes, ever. Then again, he'd rather keep this vision to himself, so maybe clothes were a good idea. A parka. Snow pants. Mittens….

He belatedly trailed after her as she walked ahead of him and pushed the door to the bathroom open. It was incredible how much had changed in the eighteen hours since he'd last set foot near here. He'd found her and accused her of being pregnant with the biggest knot of fear in his stomach, and now she _was_ pregnant and he was the father (for all intents and purposes at this point), and they were diving headfirst into whatever the hell this would turn out to be and had experienced one of the most frenzied and tense reunions that were on record, he was sure. So much had happened, and there was still so much more to come. So many hits too take, so many heads to send rolling if they so much as dared to say a word against her reputation (he might be new money, but new money was still money and could silence an awful lot of people if it had to).

There was a gentle sound of metal sliding as the glass door was pushed back and she hardly needed to look at him through the steaming room before he was closing the distance between the doorway and the shower and stepping in after her, pulling the door shut behind him. Anything to put a barrier between them and any outside soul that might wander by (namely Dorota) and be scarred by the sight of them. The water hit his skin in hot, fast little pricks, stinging him each time. His hair was slowly getting plastered down as it absorbed the hot water, and some of the longer hairs were falling in his eyes. He swept them back to be rid of the nuisance so he could look down at her with an unobstructed view, and he smirked slightly, hazel depths glittering with that same level of intense insatiability that always hid just beneath the surface for her.

"I hope you're prepared to put a lot of work in here, Waldorf," he informed her, voice heavy with warning, "You spent the night in bed with _Chuck Bass_." He echoed her earlier words and raised an eyebrow at her. "It's going to take a _lot_ of time to get you… clean," his mouth quirked slightly as he reached behind her for… what was that thing that girls called it? A loofa? Whatever it was it felt scratchy and gentle at the same time, and it was some sort of pastel color. "You have to be willing to put in the time," he murmured.

* * *

Blair Waldorf was absolutely glowing.

Her skin held a certain radiance that had only ever been present when she first started dating Nate in middle school. Her hair was shiny and soft, and her smile just spoke wonders to her attitude.

It could only mean one thing: Blair Waldorf had a boy in her life—a new one, and he was satisfying her needs.

After their "shower", she got ready quickly, drying her hair and styling it accordingly, throwing on her uniform plus a few extra accessories (an overcoat, headband, tights, and a nice bag). She allowed Chuck to get ready on his own, and actually, avoided him as much as possible…because knowing them…they'd never get to school on time unless they separated from each other for enough time to get ready. Once they were both ready, they headed down to the street where Arthur was waiting, and slid into his car. Blair had arranged it with them so that she'd be dropped off a block down, and walk the rest of the way, because them going to school together was pretty suspicious. Of course, they were friends, but Blair had her own means of getting to school, so getting out of Chuck's limo might be a little…confusing for some people. And since Blair was such a hot topic on Gossip Girl, who knows what wannabe underclassmen would snap a photo of her!

Once the car stopped, a block down from Constance, Blair leaned over and (thanking god that he had tinted windows), kissed him slowly and longingly. She sighed against his lips, before pulling away, only to decide that the one kiss wasn't nearly enough, and kissed him again, before forcing her body to go towards the door.

"See you in five," she smirked before opening the door and allowing herself out onto the street. She walked slowly down the sidewalk, head held high as queen, an ever-mischievous smile on her features. It didn't take her long to reach the school gates, and she was sure that Chuck had already gotten out and was lurking around somewhere, probably with Nathaniel.

That worried her.

She knew that Chuck wouldn't say anything, but Blair wasn't exactly the best at keeping her cool when her ex-boyfriend and new-secret-lover/baby-daddy/boyfriend were interacting like best friends…because they are best friends. This was going to be harder than she made it sound.

* * *

The ride to school had been all too quick for Chuck's liking. Technically, he thought to himself, slightly deflated, it wasn't even _to_ school. It was a block away from school, and she'd gotten out and left him to drive the remainder alone. It wasn't even the separation that he minded (although he couldn't say that he was a fan of that policy, either) it was the fact that…. Well, he wasn't any good at this couple-y, boyfriend, be-together thing, but the way he saw it, if they were supposed to be in this… didn't that mean they were supposed to, at minimum, show up at school together? He got that there was a social hierarchy and that Blair Waldorf was at the top, and he was… maybe not the very bottom (that was Brooklyn's place on the totem pole) but he wasn't as close as Nate to occupying the upper tiers. But she was having his kid! What, was she just going to disappear to Switzerland once she started getting round and pretend that she just picked up an orphan when she came back? The thought put his blood on a surprising simmer - he'd be riding the subway before he let his child be hidden from the public like that. Before he let _them_ be hidden like that. Her kisses, though, had cooled him (in some ways only, while achieving the exact opposite in others) and he'd returned them with the same deep intensity, like he wanted to swallow her whole. She was gone too soon, though, and he'd flopped back against the seat morosely. Not even thirty seconds had passed before he was rolling up to the curb and getting out of the limo, weaving through the gathering crowds.**  
**

"Chuck!"

His teeth set on edge for a moment before he forced his expression into something impassive. There was a weight on his shoulder as Nate clapped him on the back.

_"_Where were you last night? I looked for you, thought we could celebrate you getting back to school finally, man."

Chuck shrugged, rolling his head indifferently. "I had a little… celebration of my own." Nate's expression was somewhere between admiration and light disgust, as if unable to decide between the two of them - unable to pick whether to worship him in a show of friendship, or to be put off that someone could actually be so… active. Eventually, though, he settled on a guffaw, and Nate patted him on the back a few times.

"Yeah, I bet you…." Nate trailed off and Chuck saw his eyes wandering. It took half a second for Chuck to follow the gaze, and when he did he felt a momentary swoop of affection that quickly darkened when he realized _that_ was where _Nate_ was looking.

"Is it just me or does Blair look…" Nate paused, and Chuck dared him with his eyes to finish that damn sentence. "She looks…" his voice lowered "Does she look bigger? Y'know…." Nate gestured vaguely to his upper body and Chuck had to fight the urge to slam him into the bricks.

"Nice, Nathaniel," he said, sneering, "When in doubt on how to tell a girl you care, ogle her tits." He tried to make the words sound as ugly as possible as if to deter him before he took off towards his classroom as the bell rang. Not that he was eager to get there, just eager to get away from Nate looking at Blair. It was on his mind even as his morning lecture droned on and his notebook was open in front of him, completely noteless of course. There was a faint vibration in his pocket and he stealthily reached into his pants before pulling out his phone and opening the message. His eyebrow raised slightly when he saw who it was from, but he quickly typed back a reply.

**BLAIR: Hi**

**CHUCK: Texting in class B? Shameful ;)**

* * *

Serena looked over at Blair, her expression holding annoyance and discontent, and underneath all of that…worry. Blair had yelled at her just the other day, after Serena had gone out of her way to get her a pregnancy test, and even took the hit for her. Blair refused to take it, and had been positive that if the test had come back negative, that she would have called to apologize.

But it hadn't.

Blair was pregnant, and it was Serena's fault (or at least that was what she was convinced of). And Serena…Serena had told Chuck. Which Blair was still mad about, even though it had only pushed them closer together, but now…now she felt obligated towards the baby. But as far as Serena knew, Blair could very well be pregnant, and she wasn't even saying anything? What a bitch. Blair refused to look at her, suddenly relieved that she had Chuck to talk to, so she could at least act like she was happy without the alliance of her "best friend", if you could even call her that.

When her phone buzzed, she quickly flipped it open to respond, keeping it hidden under her desk. She blushed at the memory, even as she wrote the message.

Not a second after she tucked her phone back into her bag, Serena leaned over to talk to her, "Texting Chuck, really?"

Blair was thrown back, unsure of how to react to her accusing tone. Blair lowered her eyes to a glare, and spat back, "Backstabbing me and telling him that I might be pregnant is obviously so much better. Bless you, saint Serena."

The blonde didn't look amused, "I was doing it to_ help_ you! You wouldn't—"

The teacher intervened, "Ms. Van der Woodsen, Ms. Waldorf, please stop talking and pay attention."

Both of them stopped, and looked back to the front of the room. Blair was pissed now. How dare Serena not only _backstab_ her, but look over her shoulder and_ judge_ her! The girl who had sex with _her_ boyfriend! The second class was dismissed, Blair stood up and left, not even bothering to look back at the blonde. She didn't need her, she concluded as she walked down the halls and stopped at her locker. She didn't need Serena, it's not like she was useful for anything. All of Blair's scheming was done by Penelope, Kati, Is, and Hazel. Jenny she was still working on, but would soon join in the ranks. Whenever she needed company, they'd come and pretend to be her friend (usually only because she treated them to a massage or manipedi). And now she had Chuck, who was her boyfriend (even though it was all secret), and he'd be there for her when she needed real comfort. He'd be there because Serena wouldn't be. In fact, she hoped she never even saw the girl again! Blair slammed her locker closed, and headed to her next class, the whole time very aware of the fact that she was telling herself lies.

* * *

Needless to say, if Chuck's mind hand't been off the lecture at hand before, it certainly was now. His phone was held tightly in his hand underneath his desk and he waited for it to buzz angrily in his hand - angry at not being read fast enough. He nearly jumped when it did buzz, but he managed to remain as calm as ever. He opened the message and swallowed tightly, eyes darkening while he remembered their morning activities with a certain level of fondness. That had definitely been an experience he would want to repeat so often. Apparently a pregnant Blair that had gotten up less than an hour before that was very, very sensitive and receptive to every little thing he did. It did wonders for his ego, and he shifted in his seat slightly just thinking about how damn _bendy_ she'd been while the hot stream of water pelted them from above. He was, truthfully, slightly surprised they'd actually made it to school on time, and he wished she'd taken him up on his offer to call in sick and spend the day in bed together. After all, it had been awhile since their days of sneaking around after school, and they needed to get reacquainted with each other's bodies… they just wouldn't have time to once they had a kid to take care of, and Chuck was very, very committed to making sure he had every part of her memorized.

**BLAIR:** **Not** **as shameful as this morn ;)**

**CHUCK: If U want 2 C shameful I can show U l8er.**

Because honestly, that hadn't even been half of what he was sure they could do together. He was surprised but gratified by her added question and he swiftly thumbed a reply.

******BLAIR: want 2 meet lunch? **

**CHUCK: Just say where.**

When his phone buzzed again almost immediately, he eagerly opened the message, scanning it before a shadow crossed his eyes and a scowl graced his lips.

Archibald.

**NATE: Who R U txting?**

Since when did the boy give a fuck about who Chuck was talking to in the middle of class? And shouldn't he be taking notes? One of them had to offer a modicum of attention to their instructor so that notes could be taken and exams scraped by on with a C- before Bart intervened and it got raised to a C+ at least. Given that Nate had always cared slightly more about school than Chuck had, that task had inevitably fallen on him while Chuck used class time to make his… appointments for the day. And afternoon. And evening, too, actually.

** CHUCK: No one. **

The brevity of his response seemed to only incite Nate to ask more questions.

**NATE: Chick? **

Two seconds later.

** NATE: Is she hot? **

Honestly, just this morning Nate had been going on and on about Blair and her ample assets, and now he was asking Chuck about the visual appeal of another girl? The attention span of a gnat. Still, though, Blair crossed his mind and a disgusting little smile that he couldn't help pulled at the corners of his lips.

**CHUCK: NE other kind? **

A few minutes passed this time, and Chuck could hardly contain his outrage at the clueless question the blonde asked.

**NATE: Think U could show her 2 B? She likes me more when other girls R around. **

Fuck, Nathaniel.

**CHUCK: No more weed 4 U.**

That was all Chuck said before he was getting out of his desk the minute the bell rang and sauntering towards his next class, where thankfully Nate would not be present (Dan Humphrey would be, but right now even he was less annoying. Humphrey wasn't trying to put the moves on his girl, and the thought was actually hilarious. As if the real Blair Waldorf would ever stoop to the level of a gutter-rat like Dan Humphrey, a man for whom maple syrup was practically a tie.)

* * *

When Blair's phone finally buzzed, she quickly rustled through her bag and located it, reading the message across the screen. She felt heat rise in her cheeks at his blatant innuendo…he couldn't be serious. She'd been incredibly "shameful" that morning. How was it that he thought it could get more so than that?! In any event, she responded before entering her class, knowing that texting in her second period of the day was nearly impossible, and wrote:

**BLAIR: meet me where I got dropped off. C U then. Xoxo –B**

After sending the text, she rushed into class and took her seat next to Hazel, who she noticed gave a good look at her breasts, but didn't say anything. It was a good move on her part, because one word out of her mouth and chaos would break loose. The time it took for her classes to pass by and to make it to lunch was nearly torture. She wanted to see him so badly, wanted to kiss him, anything. She just wanted to see the one person who actually knew what was going on with her, and wanted to be around her. Once the lunch bell rang, she texted Chuck again:

** BLAIR:** **B there soon, have 2 deal w/girls**

In the next moments she made her way to the steps of the Met. When she arrived, she noticed that most of her worker bees had already gotten there, and had taken their seats…including Jenny. Blair walked up the steps and sat down, noting them all carefully picking at their salads and yogurts.

"Jenny," she stated quickly, "Go buy me a yogurt from that cart over there."

The blonde looked at her in a slightly confused manner, before getting up and leaving.

All of a sudden, Hazel spoke up, "Did it hurt?"

Blair knit her brows, "Did _what_ hurt?"

The strawberry blonde smiled and looked between the other girls, _"_You know…your boob job? I've always wanted to get one, but my mother is totally against it. But maybe now if I tell her you—"

Blair interrupted her mid sentence, "I didn't get a boob job!" she practically screeched, eyes bubbling with outrage. "Who told you that?" They all looked towards Jenny, who was walking back towards them with a yogurt.

"Jenny," they said in unison.

Rage flickered behind her doe eyes before she stood up and walked towards blonde.

"Jenny Humphrey I have given you too many chances. You just wasted your last one," Blair snatched the yogurt from her skinny hand, "You may no longer sit with us at lunch. Do not speak to us in the halls, and do not ever wear a headband again. If I ever hear you started a rumor about me again, I will personally _end_ you. Is that clear?" She didn't wait for an answer before stomping off in the opposite direction, and heading toward where she told Chuck she'd meet him.

The light in Chuck's eyes had dimmed for a minute when he first read the text that she finally replied with.

Where she got dropped off.

So, again, a block away from school, away from the prying eyes of everyone. He didn't know why it bothered him, it just did. He knew that they would cause more than a splash if they showed up to school together, acting all… well, kissing and touching each other in a way that spoke volumes about their familiarity with each other, but wasn't it better to rip the bandaid off now? Trust him, he wasn't exactly looking to have his reputation shattered, either. The minute he was seen walking next to Blair Waldorf all of what he'd worked so hard for would be gone and he'd be labeled whipped. But it was going to have to happen eventually, and… and he had to admit, he'd like Nate to stop looking at Blair like he'd seen her naked and he couldn't wait to do it again. Just the thought made his teeth set on edge, and he couldn't wait till the warmer weather arrived and Serena could prance around in short little skirts and shorts to sufficiently distract Nate. He'd always had a short attention span, and all he needed was some skin (although Chuck found it abysmal that that was all he required - it should take a lot more to distract from Blair). It was strange - he wasn't necessarily thrilled with the term boyfriend, but he didn't want people thinking Blair was up for grabs either, and as long as they kept this level of discretion about them, they would.

Waiting for Blair on the corner a block away from school, he felt antsy. He couldn't explain it, he just couldn't stand to stay in one place for long. He paced back and forth short distances, occasionally settling against the hood of the limo, but not long after he would be back up again. He itched to find a joint to take the edge off of his nerves, just a little hit to mellow him out, but he knew that if Blair got there and she smelled the smoke on him (or actually saw him with it between his teeth) he'd have hell to pay. Actually, he'd have more than hell to pay, and the idea was nearly enough to make him wince. Honestly, he thought with a frown on his face, how long could meeting with _the girls_ take? All she needed to do was assert her place before flouncing off to her own location because she had bigger and better things to do since she was Blair Waldorf. He took out his phone from his pants pocket and opened it, running his thumb over the keys in thought. He was about five seconds away from sending her a text when he heard the light pattern of familiar feet against the sidewalk. He turned, then, and saw her bouncing brown curls bobbing around her head as she made her way towards him, and he exhaled a heavy sigh, sending the tension in his shoulders with it. He leaned into her soft kiss, one hand automatically touching her waist.

"Hey," he murmured as he broke it, hazel eyes scanning over her face. "That took awhile," he said before, "Everything go alright?" he added in an attempt to soften what he was sure sounded like the beginning of a neurotic need to keep track of her location.

She sighed at his question, annoyance flashing across her features as well…as well as something that bordered on insecurity, "Jenny Humphrey has been going around telling people that I got a boob job…" she gestured to her breasts, "They aren't that noticeable are they?"

(Translation: tell me something that will make me feel better, I don't _actually_ want the truth).

_Ah. And there it is._

There was an edge to her voice that warned against the truth, and even though he'd never had a girlfriend in his life, Chuck Bass wasn't sheltered in that regard. He knew how to survive amongst the women if he had to, and there was no way in hell that he was about to tell Blair that yes, her breasts were noticeable and all he wanted to do was-

"I notice," he said simply, "but it's just because I can't stop looking." He spared her a lecherous smirk as he finally lifted his eyes back to her. "I don't think anyone else can really tell the difference. It just looks like a new bra," he said, hoping that these words would douse the threatening fire.

His answer made her feel better, because he was playing along with her little game, and somehow actually managing to compliment her. If there was one thing that Blair Waldorf loved, it was being desired. Most of her life, she'd just been known as the ice queen, and no one would even dare to think of her as desirable when she was so obviously unattainable, now, however…she was free game (as far as everyone thought). But Chuck…he definitely made her feel special. The fact that he was even willing to stay with her and take care of her spoke volumes to that fact.

"Have you eaten yet?" He inquired. "Isn't… I mean… aren't you supposed to?" His words implied for the baby, but he was too much of a buffoon to not trip over his words when it came to this particular subject.

She lifted her hand to show him the yogurt, "My usual lunch."

Blair was determined that, until she saw a doctor who told her to do this differently, she wouldn't change a single thing in her routine. She wouldn't stop her small portions of food, wouldn't not wear her Louboutins, and most definitely wouldn't stop having sex with Chuck—it was one of the many perks of their newly developed relationship. Blair was beginning to feel, however, that Chuck wasn't in it completely…there was something holding him back from really…_being with her_. She frowned at the thought, having a sinking feeling that it was part of her that was simply pushing him away. It'd only been a day and they already weren't working.

He never believed that was enough for her beforehand, and he certainly didn't believe it now. "Blair, you can't just… you have to have something more than that." He could tell by the steely look in her brown eyes, though, that it wouldn't be happening anytime soon, no matter how many threats he threw at her.

She didn't even bother responding to his food comment, even though she could hear the concern in his voice, it…it wasn't fair! It was her body, their baby, yes, but…she wasn't even hungry.

However, she noticed something was slightly...off about Chuck. He seemed different, tense.

"Are you…" she paused for a second, "okay?"

Maybe he'd answer her, maybe he wouldn't. She had a feeling it was because they were sneaking around but…they couldn't tell Nate yet! And if Nate found out, then the whole school would know, and her reputation would be ruined, and she couldn't imagine the backlash she'd get from the girls. Not to mention, the fact that she was pregnant was also a huge issue that would no doubt cause trouble for her in the very near future. Surely Chuck had to understand that. He had to know that if her reputation was ruined, then she wouldn't be able to…attend Constance. She had to be queen, otherwise she was…insignificant. And Blair Waldorf was never insignificant.

_Never_.

She just wished that he could understand these things, she wished that he could be okay with the fact that they had to be a secret until the right time came. It was that or nothing. And Blair had a feeling that if she didn't have Chuck by her side for whatever reason, that she'd go back to Nate, because…she needed someone. She couldn't be alone…not with the baby.

"Yeah," he responded, voice a little brittle, "everything's fine." He'd opened his mouth for one answer, but had given another instead, because she didn't need this on top of trying to battle rumors about her. She'd have enough rumors and stories to deal with soon enough, she didn't need these starting now, and she needed to focus on squashing them and those involved. He would only get her more upset and pissed off, and apparently he was a fucking pussy now that gave a shit about how she handled things. Maybe that was it - he was just a coward in general, and he was damn terrified that if he asked her about it, he wouldn't like what he heard.

Her eyes lowered to a glare at his answer. He wanted to say something, but he just couldn't get it out. Blair considered herself a good liar, but Chuck saw right through her façade. Chuck was a terrific liar, but Blair was beginning to catch on to when he wasn't telling the truth—right now was one of those moments.

She sighed melodramatically and rolled her eyes, "Chuck, I'm going to assume that the fact that you've never been in a relationship before is clouding your judgment. And as someone who has been in a relationship that lasted…fairly long, let me tell you that one of the most important parts is open communication. If we can't talk about anything, we can't work." So there it was; the Blair Waldorf knowledge of the day. She realized it might be kind of harsh, and she hadn't exactly been forthcoming during the past week, but then again…they hadn't been in a relationship.

The hair on his neck instantly bristled, and his own eyes clouded. "Because that _relationship_ has been the ideal to live up to?" he asked somewhat testily. Even doing better than Nate he couldn't beat the boy, and that relationship had, by all accounts, been a disaster.

How the fuck had they even gotten to this point? They'd been fine. All morning, they'd been perfect, and he probably should have known that couldn't last. He just didn't even know where they'd went wrong, and it was like… everything he touched just crumbled beneath his fingertips. Anything he wanted - the tighter he held it, the faster it died. Ironically, it only made him want to hold onto her tighter, but if he did that….

He swallowed thickly, and set his jaw, ignoring the instinct to drop to his knees and to ask her to please, just tell him what to do or say and he'd do it, so long as it made them go back to that carefree way they'd been this morning - the them that had her kissing him a few extra times before she got out of the limo. No matter what… he just was never going to be the right choice for her. He was never going to be Nate. She might say she didn't want him anymore, but… well.

Orgasms did have a way of clouding one's thoughts.

"It's not like that!" she spat back at him, of course, he had to bring it back to Nate, like he always did. He had to make her feel like she was going back to Archibald, when she'd really just been trying to make them work.

"Then what is it like?" He asked, eyes narrowed on her, "Tell me."

Blair's lips moved wordlessly, outraged at his demand, and he took it as all the response he needed.

"I'll see you later, Waldorf."

As she watched him walk away, she furiously stomped towards the school, tossing her unopened yogurt in the trash as she went. Leave it to Blair to eat less when her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) told her she needed to eat more.

Blair was a fool for thinking that Chuck had changed, that he'd become a better person. She was a fool for thinking that he actually wanted to be with her, that he actually wanted to take care of her and be a couple! It was ridiculous, and it made her stomach churn in an awful way that was similar to how she'd been throwing up the days before. She had no one now—she'd pushed Serena away, Nate, and now finally, she'd managed to even make Chuck mad at her. How was she going to raise a child, when she couldn't even have a boyfriend for more than a day?!

As Blair walked back onto the campus grounds, she noticed that a lot of people had started moving back towards the school since lunch was nearly over. There was a buzzing in her purse, and she'd initially thought it was Chuck, either sending an apology or making her feel worse, until she noticed that other phones were going off around her.

A Gossip Girl blast.

Sighing, she dug around in her purse and searched for her phone, and couldn't help but feel several sets of eyes zeroed in on her. Her heart immediately dropped. It could be a phony blast about her boob job, or…she flipped open her phone to read the blast_: _

**Listen closely boys and girls, because I've got one of the juiciest blasts of the year. Looks like our Queen B hasn't been so ladylike lately. The boob job rumor has been debunked, but you'll never guess the truth. S was covering for B when she bought the pregnancy tests. Looks like Blair's had her sheets rumpled, and not by one boy…but two? The boyfriend and the best friend, very original, and just the perfect way to get back at Nate for his night with S. So, that just leaves me with one question, B. Who's the daddy? You know you love me. Xoxo.**

Her pregnancy.

Her boyfriend.

Blair felt like she was going to be sick. She looked up from her phone to see everyone staring straight at her. Half of them were laughing, and the other half looked disgusted. Blair turned around to escape their gaze, and she could feel the tears stinging her eyes, but she couldn't let them see her cry.

She couldn't let them see her be weak.

As she turned, she came face to face with Penelope, Kati, Is, Hazel, and…Jenny. They all stood in a pack, all wearing their bitch faces, arms crossed, ready to attack.

Penelope eyed her carefully, before, "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, B…is it true?"

Blair didn't respond, instead she glared, "Shut up, Penelope."

Penelope smirked, "Wow, B, and all this time you thought you could still be queen. By the way, Jenny is no longer exiled from our group. After she told us the truth…"

Blair eyes shot from Penelope to Jenny, "This was you?!" she practically screamed, all the while the girls started walking past her as the bell rang, Penelope "accidentally" spilling her yogurt all over the front of Blair's coat.

"Oops, my bad." She said sarcastically, before dropping the garbage at her feet, and signaling the others to follow her, "You can pick that up, right B?"

Within moments Blair was off of campus, hailing a cab.

Serena, Nate, the girls…they all hated her now. The entire school thought she was a slut…a joke. Blair was home within a half hour, tearing off her coat and throwing it on the floor while she rushed up to her room, slammed the door, and went to her bathroom to throw up. She didn't know if it was from the stress, or the baby, or…she found herself forcing herself to throw up again when her feeling of dread didn't go away. Tears were hot against her cheeks and she ignored Dorota's tentative knocks and questions.

Her worst nightmare was becoming reality.

Blair Waldorf was now insignificant.

* * *

**A/N: Did I, C, not promise that you'd get the next chapter MUCH quicker if B edited? Such a gem. There you have it, readers! So it's not been all smooth sailing after that fluffy last chapter, but who really expected that? We really, really, really appreciate the time you all are taking to review - the short ones, to the super long ones, the ones left every chapter, and every other chapter. They're always interesting and insightful, and we thank you for sticking it out with us for this ride! Happy Easter to those who celebrate, Happy Passover to those who celebrate, and we'll hopefully have the next chapter with you soon!  
**


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